Grandad

The Haunted Chronicles

I haven’t posted anything about our resident ghost lately because he really hasn’t been around.

After the last round of ‘The Unexplained‘, Sam left and stayed gone until recently. When we asked Vista where he was, her answer was always the same:

Sam’s at work.  Like Daddy works.  But Sam works with people.

I would smile and nod and on we would go with our lives.  After all, this isn’t the first prolonged absence by Sam.  I figured soon or later he would show up.

I just didn’t think it would be at 2am Friday morning.

Vista started calling for me, so I stumbled out of bed and into her room.  It crossed my mind that it was odd that she was awake, because she’d actually been sleeping through the night quite well since we put her on her anti-seizure meds.

I fixed her covers for her while I explained that it was still night time and she needed to go back to sleep.  Then I leaned down and gave her a kiss and told her “Mommy loves you”.

She looked at me, still wide awake, and said “OK Mommy.  I loves you too.”

Then she looked over my shoulder and said…

“Bye Sam”

*sigh*

I raised an eyebrow at her.  “Was Sam here?”

“Yes”

“I see.  Do you know why he was here?”

I could see Vista pause “He…. popped…in…to…say…Hi”

*another Mommy sigh*

“Of course he did.  Well, Sam needs to learn how to tell time because 2am is not appropriate visiting hours.  Tell him to come back in the morning”

I finished tucking her in, gave her another kiss, and headed back to bed cursing ghosts who don’t own watches.

The Friday and Saturday passed uneventfully.

Then today.

I woke to hear my Belgian Shepherd woofing in the downstairs bedroom.  The last time he did this was the last time Sam was around.  I could here him vocalizing at something.  Not growls and barks but more…talking.

In the 6 years I’ve owned this dog, I’ve know him to do this a handful of times.  All of them since Sam arrived in our lives and always in the downstairs bedroom.  I’m not sure why that room is special.

Rather than let him continue and risk waking Vista, I called him upstairs and put him and our border collie out in the back yard.

We eventually all got out of bed and Vista headed off with her respite worker for a day of fun.

Bil and I decided to take the opportunity to shampoo the carpets and catch up on some cleaning.

We cleared most of the furniture out of the living room, leaving the fish tank, book shelves, and my grandfather clock.

This clock is something very special to me.  It was handcrafted by my Grandad (my dad’s father), and left to me when he passed away.  Before he died, he also made each of my aunts a grandfather clock.

On the day he died all three clocks stopped at the same time.  *cue spooky music*

The clock was carefully padded and packed up to make the 14hr drive to my house.

But once we set it up in our here we discovered something had shifted in the mechanisms inside.  It no longer kept time properly and wouldn’t chime at all.  We tried a few times to get it to work, but realized that we would need to find a clocksmith to come out and make the necessary adjustments.

But we’ve just never found anyone I would trust with my beloved clock.  So it’s sat still in the corner of our living room for the past 5 years.  No longer ticking but still a cherished time piece.

Until today.

After we finished pulling the furniture out of the living room, we sat on the floor to have a quick lunch before starting the cleaning.  As we finished our lunch, Bil stood up and I saw a look of shock go across his face.

“Jenn… look at the clock…”

258814631 3588be86f9 m The Haunted Chronicles
Image by anyjazz65 via Flickr

I turned and looked at my grandfather clock.

The pendulum was slowly rocking back and forth and back and forth.   Keeping. Perfect. Time.

I looked at the clock on the DVD player.  A 4hr 15 minute time difference between the grandfather clock and the correct time.

And judging from the amount the counter weights in the clock had dropped it had just started today.

I knew the time on the clock had been stopped at 2:45.

Bil did a bit of mind math… “7am.  It would have started at 7am this morning”

I looked at him.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Because that’s what time the dog woke me up this morning woofing at whatever was downstairs”

I could feel the hair on the back of my neck standing up.

We left it running as we worked around the house.  Glancing at it every time we walked past.

Then tonight at 5:45 (1:00 grandfather clock time), it chimed for the first time in this house.

I’ve got an email in to one of my aunts to see if she remembers what time the clocks stopped at when my grandfather passes.

I’m hoping it wasn’t 1:00, otherwise Bil may move out of the house.

I guess maybe Sam took my order to ‘learn how to tell time’ seriously.

 The Haunted Chronicles

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