Reality and Reason

 

 

I've written before about the surreal existence on the haunted farm and during my childhood. Where reality blurs with memories and yet exists as a beacon leading me to my foundation built during cold bitter winter nights and lazy dusty summer days.. I know the things that happened there in the dawn of my life where as real and true as the life I live today. What has always perplexed me was the lack of conversation and questioning that occurred in our house. Yet when I think back....the 60s and 70s weren't really open territory for supernatural discussions and quite frankly we all might have been thought quite mad.

 

I must note that I typically shied away from scary movies and even novels that depicted sagas that took a paranormal twist. As an avid reader, I wonder why. In reflection, I think I was avoiding facing the craziness of the events that unfolded constantly around me. What if in those movies I caught a glimmer of something that existed (for me) in everyday life. Would it make it more real? Somehow more threatening? Would it confirm or deny the reality around me?

 

 

This rings true. There is a reality inside me. Oh its different now than it was 45 or more years ago. I've traveled, I've studied, I've had conversations, I've written and reflected. I've experienced life much more than I had back then. For years I even led an "unreal" life. We all do...trying to impress others, make our way in the world, conform to societal expectations, etc. Yet there is a "world" inside of me and that world includes the experiences of my youth.

 

So when I enter a dwelling, like the Lemp Mansion in St. Louis Missouri where I recently took part in a haunted tour and spent the night....when I enter and it "feels" well strange and familiar at the same time, I know that it is my senses registering something deep inside me. Experiences that have the same quality. Not deja vu...just recognition of a similar sensation.

 

 

Card 48: Nightly Visitor

 

 

Doors are interesting things...don't you agree? They let people in and out of buildings, churches, stores and our homes. With the twist of the knob someone new and interesting might enter into our lives but living on the haunted farm made me come to realize that many feelings and many things  can come with the turning of the knob.

 

It was in the darkest hours of the night that the turning of the knob could signal our almost nightly visitor.  This phenomena happened as far back as I can remember. Perhaps it was always there like the little man in the attic but my knowledge of it lay hidden in the dark recesses of my mind. Tucked away like a key to something I would never truly understand.

 

I can't really remember exactly when it floated into my consciousness and even now it amazes me how seldom we talked about it.  On many nights, well past two in the morning we would either be awakened by the sound of the front door opening or by our small dog barking vigorously at something in the living room.

 

The layout of the small house was such that my bedroom door opened into the living room but was slightly obscured by a enclosed staircase that led up to the attic. Slightly down from my room was the door into my parents bedroom. Sometimes my father would get up and try to sneak silently into the living room to catch a glimpse of whoever or whatever entered.

 

The door was old and creaked. We seldom locked it and quite honestly I'm not sure there even was a lock for many years but regardless the visitor had no problems entering.  With the creaking of the door the dog usually charged into the living room. As I lay silently in my bed I could hear the dog's paws clicking on the wooden floor. Not just clicking but jumping up on something and then falling to the floor again, and again, and again.

 

Once again I am struck by the oddness that I don't remember any fear. Perhaps the fear became buried under all the layers of twisted oddity that occurred in the house, the woods, the lane and in our lives. I know there were some nights when we were curious, perhaps even slightly anxious but not the gripping fear you might expect when you "think" someone is in the next room and you wonder what they want and why they are there.

 

When it awakened me I can assure you I didn't have the courage to hop out of bed and blunder out into the living room to investigate but neither did I lay quivering in my bed filled with dread. Generally I waited and after a bit the dog fell silent and most of the time before I drifted back to sleep I would hear the door again as our nightly visitor left.