My mom came back from a trip to Los Angeles one day with the spirit of a little boy in tow.
My mom has what I call “The Pied Piper Gene”. It is half of what my grandfather had, and she has it strong! (I, in turn, have half of hers). Kids are drawn to her like moths to a flame. When we are out in public, children stare in fascinated wonder at my mother, as if she were a combination of a movie princess, a knight in full armor, and a giant chocolate chip cookie. When my mom looks back, they smile from ear to ear.
Kids wave at her, babies reach for her, and parents often have to drag them away while they stare back at my mom, slack-jawed. I’ve seen it countless times, and it never ceases to amaze me.
I also know that busy, public places are packed with spirits. The more chaotic, busy, or tense the human energy, the more the ghosts there are soaking it up, like a pack of sunbathing teenage girls. And if these ghosts see someone they find especially fascinating – either someone they relate to or whose energy feels especially soothing – they will sometimes follow that person home.
There is no doubt in my mind one of them hitchhiked home with my mom this time.
It had been quiet prior to this. I’d cut a few energy cords to some negative people in my life, cleansed and sealed the house again, and was enjoying the immediate benefits.
The first night after her return wasn’t too eventful, other than an owl hooting repeatedly outside my bedroom window (owls mean big change and that you are being guided and protected on your spiritual journey).
But the following day felt weird. Kiani kept seeing flashes of copper light, and my ears kept ringing while I was interacting with my daughter or the animals (ear-ringing can sometimes be your body’s way of picking up on spirits; it is common in some sensitive people and not always a result of ear damage). Then Kiani saw a little boy briefly appear at the top of the stairs.
Following this, Kiani and I had what I can only call “bothered dreams”. For hours, they went on, and the last one kind of freaked me out, to be honest. In it, a little boy leaned over me while I slept and talked and talked and talked.
I couldn’t make out what he was saying, but when he started to pull on my blanket over my shoulder, I startled awake.
I admit to not handling it as gently as I could have, and I feel bad, but no one likes to be bugged while sleeping. I sat up and chewed the boy out, like a frustrated parent would.
“Out!” I said. “Get out. Now!”
Kiani woke up and asked what was happening. I sighed and explained briefly, then we both fell asleep again, this time with no spirit or dream interruptions.
The following day was a lot calmer. No ear-ringing, except when my Mom cut up a giant lemon meringue pie and sat down with the kids to eat it. When I walked over to join them, back the ringing came. I wish I could have offered the kid a piece of pie for yelling at him, but I decided I would have to settle for having a talk with him next time we sensed him.
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