Exploring the Unknown: They Really Like Me!

How do your people knock on the door?

It should come as no surprise to you that the Afterlife has always fascinated me. I love listening to the stories of friends and family. I love watching them cringe as they describe their personal experiences with the paranormal, tiptoeing around the REALLY weird parts because they want to sound more, well, more ‘sane’.

Pshaw, my friends….I never assumed you were sane to begin with 😜

But seriously, there is no standard or normal when it comes to these experiences. I have heard stories as simple as “I swear that cardinal came just when I was thinking about my mom,” to “And when the lights flickered and an old, translucent guy screamed at me to ‘get out!’, well, I about messed my shorts!”

Thankfully, this particular friend kept his shorts clean and his dignity intact.

I have shared several experiences that I’ve had over the years and withheld many because, frankly, I believe there is a fine line between ‘wow, how cool!’ to ‘ yeah, that’s something I could have gone my whole life without hearing!’ So, I will sit on some of the more bizarre encounters until ya’ll get your feet wet dippin’ in the paranormal waters of the next life while you’re still swimmin’ in this one.

Let’s dive in, shall we? (See what I did there? 😅) One of the things I believe is that the other side will always try to take the path of least resistance when reaching out to the living. Existing on another plane, in ethereal form, and trying to cross the divide is exhausting. So, what’s the easiest way to, metaphorically speaking or not, reach out and touch someone? Nope, it’s not AT&T. It’s…wait for it…

Electricity!

Manipulating televisions, turning on radios, flicking on lights. How many times have you been thinking about a loved one who has passed away, maybe tearing up or outright bawling like a newborn, when a song comes on that reminds you of them. A song that transports you magically to an event or time that you spent with your special person, or one that even has their name in the title or lyrics?

Case in point…my friend Eileen. Eileen was a good friend and a wonderful person who left this earth recently and unexpectedly. I think of her often and the other day, during a morning walk, I was especially missing her. Walking, listening to Sirius through my ear buds, ‘Come on, Eileen,’ comes on the radio. I haven’t heard that song in a decade, but there it was, blasting from my iPhone, causing me to smile. I used to say that line to her often; it was kinda our thing. I still miss her madly, but hearing that song brought me so much comfort, I downloaded it from iTunes and added it to a playlist.

Here is another example of ‘ Gosh, I guess they did like me!"‘ One Halloween, my family and I were sitting around the table at my mom’s house, reminiscing about our childhood and missing my father. For those of you who don’t know, my dad died suddenly in 1978. I was only 17 and it was a very tough time for all of us. Anyway, we were talking about this holiday or that, about the old house and incredible memories we held, too many to count. It was, I don’t think calming is the word, but centering maybe? Cathartic? All I know is I left feeling better than I had before we all took that short trip down memory lane.

That evening, about three in the morning, I was sleeping soundly when the sound of my cellphone, tucked inside my purse in the kitchen, woke me up. Groggy, I stumbled into the kitchen, dug through my purse (which, if you know me, know it’s like digging around the bottom of a Crackerjack’s box—you never know what kind of prize is at the bottom) and pulled it out to look at the display. The ringtone was unfamiliar, certainly not one that I had set my phone on. In fact, afterward, I could never replicate the sound.

Anyway, I notice I have a voice message but no missed call came up. I went to my messages, found the voicemail (that only had like a three or four digit number that came up as the caller) and pushed play.

It was a recording of the conversation my mom, sister and I had at the table—the part where we talked about my dad. The entire thing had recorded on a phone that was in my purse…one that I hadn’t touched all evening.

I was gobsmacked! (I don’t even know if that word fits here, but it’s such a fun word, I had to include it. Gobsmacked!) I have no explanation for this weirdness. How does a phone record a conversation anyway? And then call you in the middle of the night, displaying an impossible caller ID number while blaring a non-existent ringtone. But want to know the best part? Although I made sure not to delete the recording so I could share it with the fam, the recording was gone. Even weirder though was that the odd caller ID was there.

Maybe you can reach heaven by dialing 4672?

In my mind, that was just a unique way for my father to let us know he was around.

I have a million stories like that, both from my experiences and from listening to friends and family members recount their personal tales. Which is great, because it only adds a tangible-type of ‘real feel’ authenticity to the countless claims out.

Remind me to tell you about the pepperoni poltergeist sometime. Nuts.

Have an experience you’d like to share? You can do so below or at quinn@quinnnoll.com. If I include your experiences in a future blog, I promise to keep you anonymous.

I can’t say that for the dead, however. Those mercenary bastards may out you to your friends and family without blinking an eye. Or the ghostly image of an eye, in any case.

Until next time, my Mighty Quinnlets… Stay true to yourselves and just keep swimmin’—you’re doing fine.😁

—Q