THE DAY I BECAME A GHOST WHISPERER

No, I am not Melinda Gordon. In fact, I was in denial for so many years that I have a special gift, a gift that will certainly allow me to step on the supernatural realm, if I wanted to. However, this is so scary that I decided to put this sixth sense aside and turn down the urge to develop the skill, in crossing the boundaries of the physical and the spiritual world. But I have to make it clear, ghosts and spirits are totally far from the distorted faces, white dresses, black capes, or others that we often see on TV. Furthermore, the world of ghost whisperers is too far from what is being seen on TV, nor how are they being presented. It's deeper than that.

My grandmother was a ghost whisperer, and my mother too, I believe. But she chose to hide it and carried her secret with her, when she died. Though it runs in the family, I have two reasons why I choose not to be one of them.

First, modern times refuse to consider this phenomenon to be within the realm of sanity. Sometimes, seeing people other than the physical being is regarded as illusion, closely associated with a mental disorder.

Second, the spiritual world requires a deep connection to the Creator (whoever he truly is), which I have failed to establish as a modern woman.

I try to always put in mind, the words from my mother saying, "don't try to get there, if you were not armed with faith in your heart, or else you will get lost and eventually lose even your physical well-being".

So with her words, it was easy to decide to cast aside this super-natural powers long time ago, and chose to regard it as nonsense.

Although I have not fully drawn myself into this mysterious reality, I would certainly fill your night with stories related to this gift, no matter how I tried to avoid them. One thing very odd though, this gift manifests itself to other people who are with me at a certain point; especially those who are sarcastic about all these, and those who refused to believe. To be straight, if it seems hard for you to believe about these things, be near me and you will see.

Well, I am sorry. This is not an invitation, for I do not have plans to prove anything to anyone. I am just stating facts, as they truly happen to me and the people surrounding me. My experiences with spirits are too subtle to scare anyone, but I am sure, they could get totally scary if I decided to delve deeper into this gift of spirituality. I wouldn't bother to recite each one of these extra-ordinary incidents to you. You would not believe me anyway. But rather, let me tell you how I gotten into this world, a world beyond human comprehension.

I was just barely seven when I first saw a ghost, and I could tell that was the start of my being a ghost whisperer.

My grandmother lived seven miles away from the highway. At that time, electricity was just available along the country's main roads. It was vacation time, so I decided to stay with her in the highlands, watching over her mini-store.

As a child, I did not take seriously all stories told about my grandmother as a ghost whisperer. In fact, I was fascinated and felt proud that she could see what other people couldn't see. I longed to be on her shoes for a time. To me, she was a very powerful woman, too pious to be always pausing for prayer. Before everyday -twilight would fade, I could hear her recite the Angelus, and an hour after our dinner, she would then lead us in reciting the Holy Rosary.

We used to sleep early, as there was nothing that can be done in the dark night with just a oil lamp lighting up the whole house. She put us to bed in a room separate from her. Us, because I always had cousins who had come with me on vacation. Every night, while everyone was asleep, I could hear her talk; and since she was doing that every night, it had slowly become normal to me.

One night, I heard a chain-like sound, banging at the kitchen door. I tucked the sheets over my head, while I could hear her pleading. Shortly after, I could hear her sounded nervous, asking somebody to go away. After a few minutes of an almost whispered conversation, I heard that the chain-like sound faded as it dragged the chain away, far from grandma's house.

That morning, I asked her about it. At first, she was startled. She stared at me. She asked what I've heard. I told her about last night and all the other nights. She then pulled the chair in front of me and held my hand. She stared at my face, looking worried and confused, sat beside me looking so bothered. After ten minutes or so, she turned her back and said,

"Nothing happened, stop imagining!"

Although I submitted without asking why, I became even more curious. The next night, I sneaked into the kitchen and waited. She was there again, as if waiting for something.

"Hah, I can't help!" I heard her whispering, struggling not to wake anyone especially me. But I was there.

She was staring at that white variant of flower we call "ROSAL"; a white flower with rose-like petals, but clearly not belonging to the rose family. That was the only Rosal flower I had seen in the whole place. I started checking the flower thoroughly, wondering and wandering who was she speaking with.

It took me awhile to see. I was about to give up and go back into my room, when I saw a bird, too big and t'was grayish in color. It was my first time seeing that bird, too unusual among the birds that I see in the highlands. To my surprise, as I dragged my stare from the bird's head to the foot part, I almost screamed in disbelief. I saw a human feet swinging back and forth, as if sitting but definitely hanging in the air. I looked up again and was horrified to see the face of my grandma's cousin who died a long time ago, and whose face only became familiar to me through that family album, I used to browse along with my mother. I ran to my room and convulsively tucked the sheet all over my body. I felt cold and I couldn't move my mouth. I was chilling and at the same time sweating profusely.

In the morning, I wanted to hide what happened that night, but grandma knew I was sneaking around. I had fever for two weeks, and from then on, I started seeing things I wasn't supposed to see, and hear sounds and voices I am not supposed to hear, until these days. Even worse, it turned me into a clairvoyant, perceiving things ahead of time. I had seen that I would be losing an uncle in 2005, a sister in 2006, and finally my mother and my father in 2008. So tell me if it isn't worth denying. Perceiving something like that was the most dreaded thing, especially that it involved a loved one. Nobody wants to be a harbinger of death.

To be honest, If I could hand this over to somebody else, I certainly would.