Leave a Light On for Me
A few years ago, before my father’s death, he was a frequent patient at a nearby hospital. On one such occasion, my mother and I spent the evening with him, at least, until we were kicked out after visiting hours were over. It was a dark, moon less, rainy night. We made our way slowly home, being cautious of the inclimate weather.
Our house sets back away from the main road, but is clearly visible from the highway. There is a long, slightly curving drive that leads from the main road to our house. As we approached the entrance to our drive, I casually glanced up toward our house, and commented to my mother that we had forgotten to leave any lights on in the house, or even the front porch, as we were in habit of doing. (Anyone who has had to enter a big, dark and empty house at night knows exactly why we do.) The house was in total darkness.
We turned into the drive, and again glanced up at the house. We were shocked to see EVERY visible light in the house was on!! The entire house was lit up, like it would be if a party were going on. My eyes were glued to the sight, for just moments before, the house had been in darkness.
So intent was my staring, that I let my car drift as I stared, and my attention was suddenly drawn back to my driving as I almost led my car into the nearby ditch. Righting the car, my mother and I took another look at the house. Again, the scene had changed. Now, the porch light, as well as an upper story bedroom, hallway, and the basement light(which could be seen from the side of the house) were on. All others were off. Again we were amazed, and that funny, goose pimply feeling assailed us.
I parked the car at the top of the drive, and made my way to the front door, cautiously. As I approached, I could hear the sound of the phone ringing inside. I hurriedly opened the door, and made my way through the house to the phone, as it continued to ring. I picked the phone up, and it continued to ring, though the line appeared dead. I replaced that phone, and since the line continued to ring, made my way upstairs to the other extension. The strangest thing is, when I got there, it was off the hook, but still ringing. I picked it up, and was met with dead silence. I then pushed the buttons several times, to no avail. As I hung up the phone, it rang again, but this time, it was my nephew. He had been trying to reach us for several minutes. Odd, though, that when he dialed our number, he heard the ring, instead of a busy signal, which ordinarily happened, when the phone is left off the hook.
I have often stated the ghost who resides here with my family is a caring, concerned, and loving individual. Though it unnerved my mother and I at first, it is comforting to know that we both had someone looking out for us, who cared enough to leave a light on for us, so that we could safely make it home.
© Paulette Boyd