Sometimes, our mortal world is scarier than the paranormal world. Here's one such example:
The littlest member of the family was a girl who followed on her big sister's heels all the time. There were 7 years between them and their mother was a cold woman who was not affectionate and not into children, even though she had five of them! The big sister was her mother and from their father's language, she was referred to as "Lillamor" (little mother).
The teen years were tough on Lillamor. When the little sister was 8 years old and her sister was just turning 16, she knew something wasn't right. Then, her big sister carved up her arms and ended up in a mental hospital. The family came to visit her for 1-1/2 years. She was so medicated with thorazine, she was barely a shell of the person they had known.
Back then, the techniques for dealing with troubled teens were brutal and barbaric. She received over 100 shock treatments, leaving her unable to recall anything from before she entered the hospital. Disgusted and frustrated, the father yanked her from the hospital and brought her home. The only problem was, she had no connections to any of them, did not recall her motherly relationship with the little one, felt awkward and confused as they talked about the past or showed her the books she had read and albums she had listened to. The parents told the others to please understand, she saw them all as strangers.
The next years and decades, it was awkward and Lillamor felt removed from the family, moved on, married, had children, and generally didn't communicate much.
Following the death of their father and then their mother and all of them becoming "orphans," Lillamor and her baby sis became very close as they had been growing up. She was just as motherly and wonderful to her baby sister and became a safe haven once again for her adult younger sister who looked up to her, wanted to emulate her just as she had as a child.
As if there was not enough tragedy, at the age of 50, Lillamor died suddenly. Still, the baby sister had developed in the seven years of communication a relationship with her as an adult, all that she needed to achieve to make up for the lost years. She had gotten back her Lillamor and Lillamor had gotten a little sister that she had a history with, even if it was a recent history.
Life is scarier than anything that could happen to you in an active haunted site, any abandoned location, any dark unknown forest.
This post is for my Lillamor (left side of the photo in the blue) And, yes, I am the little sister in red.
Always remember, you only get to borrow people and you must some day return them. Return them all the better for you being in their lives and you all the better for the wisdom they imparted in you. If I seem spontaneous and full of life, it is because all we ever have with people in our lives is the experiences we shared. I like to make memories. I like to make connections. I like to be the better for it; both me and the other person.
I have no fears of the paranormal world, only wonder at how it happens, why it happens, when it happens. I fear nothing on the immortal plane, only the mortal one.
Before my "Lillamor" died, we talked about her haunting our childhood home. My parents both promised to be there and our beloved brother and a dear family friend. All of them have passed. If ghosts exist, if they can haunt a location, I know they wait for me at Aspen Grove. Some day, I hope to get there again and try to make that communication that they promised me they would attempt.
Do I fear the paranormal? No, I invite it in. There's not a damn thing it could do to scare me!