Thursday, June 13, 2013

Strange Happenings at the Hospice

* Sent in by Elise Perch

Working as a nurse for the last 22 years I’ve seen my fair share of spooky experiences that’s for sure.  It used to freak me out when I first started, but nowadays on the wards but nowadays it has become so commonplace that I hardly even think about it.

My first experience was pretty freaky though, and I’ll admit that it frightened the heck out of me at the time.

Working night-shift I was on duty with one of the senior nurses, Marion, and we were in the nurses station.  A crashing sound came from down the hall, like the clattering of metal on metal.  I looked at Marion in shock, but she didn’t bat an eyelid.  I took off up the hallway looking for the cause of the noise.  I found utensils and three stainless steel bowls scattered on the floor, but no one in sight.  I placed the items on the bench, a little perplexed, and made my way to the nurse’s station.  Marion didn’t bother to ask, but I told her what I’d found.  She just smiled at me in a strange way.

Not twenty minutes later, the clattering sound rang out again, and again Marion didn’t flinch but continued on with her knitting.  I followed the noise and found the same utensils on the floor again.  But no one was around.  This time I placed the utensils in the sink so that there would be no way they could ‘slip’ off the bench again.

Imagine my shock when five or so minutes later I heard the clattering and clanging sound yet again.  I just couldn’t believe it.  Marion glanced at me and smiled.  “You may as well get used to it’, she said wryly.

And she was right.  I worked at that hospice for nearly six years and with just about every shift there was some kind of unusual/unnatural occurrence.  I just came to expect it every day.

When I have some more time up my sleeve I’ll send along some more of my experiences over the years.

* Sent in by Elise Perch

Tuesday, June 11, 2013

The Bedside Angel


* Sent in by Chloe

I never really thought much about angels and stuff like that, but I was in for a pleasant surprise.

In my early twenties I married and quickly had two little boys, Gavin and Steven.  When Gavin was only a month or so old, I work for his night time feed.  His crib was in the corner of our bedroom and as I looked across I could see a light or rather a glow hovering near his cot. I blinked my eyes in the dark, thinking I was dreaming, but I could still clearly see the outline of whitish-bluish figure bending over a sleeping Gavin.

I felt a sense of shock, but not fear.  I sat perplexed, unsure of what to do.  Then Gavin stirred and woke, the light figure fading away in the darkness.  I then switched on my beside lamp and went about feeding and changing Gavin as normal.

Laying back down in bed once done, I wandered about what I’d seen and worried that it was a bad omen.

I witnessed this phenomenon most nights after that, and in time, rather than being concerned, I felt supported and grateful for the presence each night and I believed that Gavin was being protected by what I assumed to be an angel.

Two years later little Steven was born and the same angel came nightly just as with Gavin.
My boys are now grown with children of their own, but I’ll never forget the peaceful presence of the angel who visited each night.

*

* Sent in by Chloe

Jake’s Guardian Angel


* Sent in by Donna S

My husband Greg and I had lived in our neighbourhood for over twenty years and had seen many families come and go over the years.

One Spring a couple with a toddler moved in next door.  Over  time, Greg and I became very fond of the little family next door and would joyfully look after young Jake whenever needed.  He was such a cheerful little mite and we loved his cheeky grin and natural curiousity.  At 3 years old he we a clever and social little chap.

One afternoon as Greg was about to leave for the shops, I had a sudden urge to stop him.  I didn’t know why, but I just felt I needed to.  I stepped outside just as he was about to reverse down the driveway, but thankfully he caught my wave and stopped on the spot.

I scurried to the driver’s side window and Greg looked at me expectantly.  I didn’t know what to say exactly because at that point I had no idea why I’d stopped him in the first place.

All of a sudden we both heard a big loud bang from out of nowhere.  I quickly looked around for the source of the noise and making my way to the back of the car my heart skipped a beat.  Little Jake was sitting on the driveway playing with a bug, only a metre or so from the back of the car.  There was no way that Greg would have seen him had he backed down the driveway.

I don’t know what prompted me to stop Greg or what or who made that loud noise that day .... but I am sure that Jake’s guardian angel was watching over him that day.

*
* Sent in by Donna S

Monday, June 10, 2013

The Ghost-Girl in the Grey Cape


* Sent in by Lucy Coles

My parents separated when I was very young, and I’d often fall asleep in my mother’s bed with the lights on because I hated the dark.  Once I was sound asleep, Mum would carry me to my own bed where I’d generally sleep peacefully till morning.

One night though, I woke up to find myself in my own room, in my own bed, in the dark.  The lights were turned off, but somehow I could see a blonde girl, a little older than myself, standing at the foot of my bed.  It was like she was standing under a spotlight or something because I could see her clearly.  But the rest of the room was dark.  She was wearing a cape or something with a grey hood.  As I sat up on bed, rooted to the spot, I watched as the girl simply vanished.  She just faded away to nothing and the light dimmed as she left.  For some reason, although I was shocked, I wasn’t really all that scared.

I thought straight away that she was a ghost, and at 8 years old, I was young enough to assume that seeing ghosts was normal because it wasn’t the first time for me.  I thought that my bedroom was probably once hers.

I came to accept her visits to my room just about every night, and she became a part of my life.  I felt comforted by her nightly visits and found that I slept more soundly on the nights that she came.

We moved out of that house three years later and I was never visited by the girl in the grey cape again.  I’d never told anyone about her, until last year when my family gathered for my mother’s 50th birthday.  Talk drifted to our history and the places we’d lived in.  I piped up and told my story of my visiting ghost-girl.  My Mum just about choked on her tea, and my older sister Kylie turned white, frozen in shock with her mouth open. Once she regained her voice, Kylie went on to tell us that she would encounter the caped girl-ghost in the bathroom every night while brushing her teeth prior to bedtime.

Then Mum chipped in with her own stories of seeing the ghostly-girl in the kitchen every time she got up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom and grab a drink.

We never discovered who the ghost-girl in the grey cape actually was, and the house has since been demolished and units built in its place.  I sometimes wonder if the girl in the grey cape visits the people who live there now, all these years later.

*
Sent in by Lucy Coles

Grandma Eileen


* Sent in by Amii

I always loved it when my Grandma Eileen and Grandpa Doug would visit from the UK each year.  They would always come in the Spring time.  My own parents had honeymooned here in Queensland and never left, so half the family lived here and the other half back in Liverpool.  Every year Grandma Eileen would say how much she wished that she lived closer as the plane trip seemed longer and longer to her aging body.

Spring time always reminds me of the smell of baking cakes, slices, biscuits and scones.  Grandma Eileen was an avid cook and especially enjoyed baking for everyone.

When I was 13 my family moved back to Liverpool to be closer to Grandma and Grandpa as they both needed care.  I dropped in on them everyday after school on my way home and would stay to help eat any freshly-baked biscuits or slices that Grandma had made during the day.  In quick time the smell of baked goods became synonymous with my daily life.

The years passed and everyone got older with time.  I moved out of home and back-packed through Europe and Asia, ending up back in Australia to marry an Aussie guy I’d met on my travels.  I missed my family back in Liverpool, but loved the Aussie sun, beaches and lifestyle.

I came home from work early one afternoon and could smell apple-cinnamon tea cake before I’d even unlocked the front door.  The very smell threw my mind back in time to when I’d be greeted by drifting wafts of all kinds of delectable goods, all care of my Grandma Eileen.
I rushed down the hall to the kitchen, somehow expecting to find Grandma at the bench, baking tray in hand.

Instead, the kitchen was cold and dark, and the delicious smell was instantly gone.  I felt a little bereft and disappointed, although how I could have expected a visit was beyond me, as both she and Grandpa were now in a nursing home and well beyond flight travel age.

I went about my nightly routine, and noticed the light blinking on the answering machine attached to the landline phone on the hallstand.  I pressed the play button to hear my clearly distraught mother tell me that my dear Grandma Eileen had passed over in the last hour.  I quickly rang her back, then made arrangements for flights to the UK to make it in time for Grandma’s funeral.

Stepping back into the kitchen to make myself a quick cup of tea, I was hit with the distinctive smell of muffins with berry sauce.  I stopped and smiled to myself.

“Hello and Goodbye Grandma ....”

*

* Sent in by Amii

Our Unseen Visitor


* Sent in by Kylie S.

One evening while my husband Bradley was out at his weekly bowling game, and my two daughters were asleep in their beds, I was sitting on the couch flipping through a magazine when someone cuffed me on the back of the head.  I just about jumped out of my skin in shock as I looked around to find who it could have been.  But I was totally alone in the room.

Several days later, my eldest daughter Caroline said that someone or something had been in her bedroom, and that she could hear footsteps walking around, but there was no one there.

I knew that Caroline wasn’t one to make up stories, so after this happening three nights in a row, I decided to move her into the spare room, hoping that things would stop.

We’d decided not to tell my youngest daughter Gabby for fear of scaring her, but that didn’t last too long as she was the next to encounter our unseen visitor.

I’d just finished up washing the dinner dishes when Gabby came screaming out of her room, wailing like a siren.  She flew into the kitchen and straight into my arms and blubbered about hearing someone knocking on her desk as she was doing her homework.  She didn’t see anyone, but the knocking was right next to her and she said she could feel the banging on the desk as she sat there.  I reassured her that all was okay, although I wasn’t too sure myself.

I was next in line again, and lying in my bed a few nights later the windchimes hanging above my dressing table started playing all by themselves.  The window was closed and there was no valid reason for their ongoing clanging.  I tried to ignore it, and after 10 minutes or so the chimes stopped just as quickly as they started.

These spooky events went on for another two months or so, until one day we came home to a disgusting stench coming from the kitchen.  I thought something somewhere had gone off, so we searched right through the pantry, cupboards and fridge, but nothing could be found.

A few hours later the smell disappeared and all of the strange happenings seemed to stop along with it.

We never figured out what went on there, but are pleased its never happened again.

*

* Sent in by Kylie S.

Lady Adelaide’s Bedroom


* Sent in by Carly Simpson

When I was in my early twenties I went on a trip with my parents and younger sister Yvonne, to visit family (Aunt Jilly) in countryside England.  Sight-seeing was a main part of our agenda.

Following along with the tourist crowds, we visited a huge old country manor, scantily refurbished and in the process of repair and restoration.

My father decided to take a break, so planted himself on a garden bench while the rest of us proceeded with the tour.

Yvonne, my mother Joan and myself wandered along with the tour group, going from room to room, listening the guide talking about the manor’s ancient history.  But I noticed as we approached different rooms, I was sure I heard voices that instantly stopped the moment the door was opened.  Yvonne said she’d heard them too.  Mum seemed oblivious to what we were hearing it seemed.  I was sure there was some kind of presence around us.

The tour guide threw open the next door down the long hallway, announcing that it had once belonged to Lady Adelaide, and that everything was just as she’d left it all those many years ago.

Yvonne, my mum Joan and I shuffled to take a peek into the room while the rest of the group wandered forward onto the next item of interest.

As I looked into the room I was sure that I saw a flicker of movement in front of the heavily guilded mirror sitting atop the old dresser.  I looked away then looked back quickly and was sure I caught another glimpse.  I could hear a rustling sound, then all of a sudden the wardrobe door flew open.  I wasn’t sure what happened after that because my feet were taking me back down the hallway out the way we came in, then out into the garden in a flash  -  Mum and Yvonne hot on my heels.

Dad sat pop-eyed as we three fled across the lawn towards him.  We didn’t stop to explain, but grabbed his hand on the way past and made our way quickly to the carpark, then back to Aunt Jilly’s, to safety.

I know it sounds silly now, but at the time, we were scared stupid!

*
Sent in by Carly Simpson