Last night I went to one of the most interesting lectures I've ever attended; in or out of college. I wish the lectures I had to attend in college we're as entertaining as listening about the paranormal and in a way parapsychology.
Justin Pari, found on paranormalrockstar.com, started the lecture by saying in ways he didn't believe in ghosts. Everyone who knows me can testify that I don't believe in ghosts but I do believe in spirits and the something beyond. I can never remember a time when I wasn't watching horror movies or wanting to encourage my friends to watch them with me.
In fifth grade I had a sleepover. I want to say there were 6 of us, but number don't matter. I had seen Salem's Lot and fell in love the story. I don't find those things scary. The Shining forget it. It's a joke to me. Any movie that appears black on the screen to say Monday, 6:55 am, can't be too scary for me. Anyway my party was split down the middle because half watched the movie and the other half hid in the other room.
Since the beginning there has always been an interest into the world that we don't understand. However, I would never use the term ghost. My story is personal. The personal story which caused me to use the term "Spirit" instead of ghost.
My step-grandpa had had many heart attacks and this one was his 6th or 7th. We we're taken to the hospital because he wasn't getting better and was told to say I love you and goodbye. When I got into the room to say goodbye I couldn't and I didn't. I figured he would just come home and I'd see him soon.
I just didn't want to say goodbye. I felt I didn't have to. Till this day I regret not saying goodbye or I love you. He ended up passing away and while I didn't show it to my family. I was upset. Who wouldn't be upset? I tried not to think about it, but as his funeral arrived I wanted to do something for me.
I wore my, well his, Northwestern sweatshirt. Everyone who knew him could tell you how much he loved Northwestern football. He'd watch every game. So, I wore his sweatshirt to the funeral and have kept it ever since.
A week or so after I had a dream. I was playing ball on my front yard and noticed Papa Herbie walking down the middle of the street with another man. I ran after him and shouted his name over and over. He kept walking with the man but turned to me and said I love you, tell your grandma I'm ok. He walked across the street and down a cal-de-sac. They walked to the exact middle and disappeared thru a ray of light shinning down.
I didn't think anything of the dream. I didn't tell anyone. Two weeks after I woke up one Saturday morning and heard his name. My grandma and mom were talking in the kitchen. I said I had a dream about him a couple weeks ago. My grandma wanted to know what the dream was about. I told them and my grandma started crying. I asked her what was wrong and she said that for the past two weeks she's been praying for him to give her a sign he was ok.
I know there are people who believe loved ones have dreams to reassure themselves that the one that pasted is ok, but being a personal experience, I believe he really came to me in my dream. People say why and I tell them... Soon after I had the dream a man that lived a few doors down passed away. That could have just been a coincidence, but at the time of my dream, there was no street across the way. Now there is a cal-de-sac. Identical with the one in my dream. But the cal-de-sac was not build for a few years after he died.
That's why I believe in the spirits and not the ghosts.
Pari went onto helping the audience, myself included, further understand what is out there and how to go about dealing with the issues if you have one. As well as how you can deal with religion and the paranormal. I would recommend if you have the chance to go and listen to him talk. It's not only informative, but entertaining.
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