I supposed every mother is her children's hero and her teachings will influence many of the decisions they'll take through their lives.
I grew up in a family that accepts the existence of ghosts. I remember listening to stories about dead love ones coming back to visit family members during their last moments, and stories about restless spirits bound to this plane due to their inability to part with their material possessions and haunting the houses where they used to live. Almost any one of my family members has, at least, one paranormal experience to tell.
My family believes that ghosts do not tolerate being told profanity and swear words. That's what I was told by my mother and that's what she was told by her own mother.
My mother's experience began when she was in her late 50's and suffering from a chronic illness. My siblings and I were already married and my parents were the only ones living in the house. My Dad was still working and would leave very early in the morning.
Occasionally, she would wake up to the sound of the main door opening and hearing someone walking toward her bedroom, she always thought it was my Dad coming back for something he had forgotten and would try to ask what had made him come back only to find herself immobilized and unable to talk.
Then, she would feel the weight of a person sitting on the bed, but wouldn't see anyone, and the 'person' would start touching her with evident sexual intentions. At these moments, my Mother would engage on a will power fight against this ominous presence and, remembering her mother's teachings, would start a mental combination of prayers and cussing until the attacks stopped and she was able to move and talk again.
These visitations lasted for several years, they would happen occasionally and in irregular basis and, fortunately, they didn't go further than touches that my Mother was able to stop with her prayers, bad words and her will power.
One day she woke up ready to fight this presence again but, this time, instead of sitting on her bed and staying invisible, it walked to the end of her bed and took the form of a massive dark shadow whose head was touching the ceiling of the room and, for the first time ever, it talked to my Mom saying something like:
"This is the last time I'm here, it's time for me to go. Please light a candle for me. My name is Horacio."
Although she admits experiencing sleep paralysis occasionally, my Mother never feels threatened or touched like before. The house was built by my parents and only my family has lived there, and the only 'Horacio' known to my Mother is still alive.
Being Catholics, there are always blessed images around the house and on her bedroom walls but they didn't seem to have prevented the attacks.
As far as I can tell, this entity wasn't a demon, hence, I'm not sure if it could be considered an incubus and, to this day, it is a mystery if Horacio left by his own volition or if Mom's faith and mistreatment proved too much for him to take. Good riddance!
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