Our Ghostly Little "Guy"- the early years

This is all completely true.  It's not my typical sarcasism or rant filled with curse words.

It all started in January of 1990.  My husband and I had bought an old old rock house that was one your famous "fixer uppers".  I hated the house.  I wanted a new house that was already painted and pretty.  He insisted because it was cheap.  Our son was a year and a half old at the time.  His bedroom was going to be all the way in the back of the house.  I didn't like that, but learned to live with it.  You had to go through the dining room and bedroom to get to his room. 

Immediately when we moved in I didn't like being there by myself because I never felt like I was by myself.  Things would be misplaced so we thought, but in a childish way.  I would find things under the bathroom sink that belonged in the kitchen.  Silly things like the dryer sheets.  Why would one of us put them there?  I for a while thought my husband was just trying to piss me off.  It had to have been him because our son was too little.  Actually this caused a lot of argument between us. 

When my son was about 2 1/2 years old, he would sit in his playpen and actually look right at one spot and then just laugh so hard.  Like someone was right there with him.  When you would walk over to him, sometimes it was hard to get his attention towards you.  I had his hearing tested and they said his hearing was fine.  When he would eat in his high chair, he would hold pieces of food out like he was trying to hand someone a bite, but we were always on the other side.  I have to admit, there for a while I was really beginning to think that something was wrong with him.  Other people would witness these things too.  Grandparents, parents, friends.  No one would really say anything to us only give us a strange look.  The one person that did say something to me was my grandmother.  She had always always talked about ghosts and spirits that she had been in contact with.  For me as a child, I never believed her, I just thought her "stories" were intersting.  One day she was sitting there and my son was in his playpen acting like he was not alone.  She asked me, "who is here?"  I said, "well, grandma, looks like the 3 of us."  She answered with a firm "NO".  So I took my son out of the playpen and put him in his high chair and told her to watch.  I gave him a cookie and he nibbled around on it and stuck it out to the side and grinned great big.  My grandmother then told me that he was not alone.  I thought she was nuts then, but also in the back of my mind wondering what was really going on.

We still were having odd little things happen here and there, but mostly with our son.  Nothing bad ever happened, but I think we all knew something was going on and no one wanted to say it out loud for fear of someone else thinking they were crazy.  When my son was 3 1/2 I got pregnant.  This pregnancy was not a good one.  Everyone was mad that I was pregnant again.  People saying that we didn't need another child yet or we couldn't afford another one right now.  My son would sit on my lap and watch tv and just lay his head on my stomach, which was way way bigger than it ever should have been.  Nothing about the pregnancy felt right.  I wanted another baby, but was terrified for so many reasons.  When I was 7 months along, I had a miscarriage.  It was awful.  After a few days had passed by and I had returned home, I was looking at some stuff from the hospital.  Something in a flier said that to ease your pain to go on ahead and name the baby.  I was furious and yelling, "what?  They actually want me to name the baby?  I can't do that...haven't I been through enough?"  I was very very bitter at the time.  My son came up to me and wrapped his arms around my leg and said "Guy."  That's good.  I didn't think much of it.

Shortly after that the name "Guy" was mentioned a lot from our son.  Guy would have to have a place at the table,  watch tv beside our son, even at bathtime I remember once my son screaming to put the plug back in because Guy wasn't out yet and he would go down the drain.  We assumed this was just an imaginary friend thing going on.  One evening our next door neighbor came over for coffee.  This was almost an everyday occurance.  She was like the grandma next door and had lived there for 35 years.  She loved our son and he thought the world of her too.  She was sitting there on the couch, drinking her coffee, playing with my son and he kept saying that it was "Guys" turn.  She gave us a puzzled look and told us that she was coming over after our son went to bed.  She needed to tell us something.  Something she probably should have told us a long time ago.