My mother, the paranormal magnet of the family

My mother is a really cool person. She's undoubtedly the most emotionally healthy out of her sisters (there's a reason she never left me alone with my grandpa), the first in her family to go to college, a pharmacist for over thirty-three years. She's dealt with health problems ranging from infertility to Ménière's disease, not to mention the mental health issues that come from my grandpa's misdeeds against her. She's also the only member of my family that I know of who's had some rather strange encounters of the paranormal kind.





Incident #1: The Dream

The night before my mother went to first grade after moving from Indiana to rural Kentucky, she had a very strange dream. She was seated in front of a casket in a funeral home type place. In front of the casket was a man, very tall and lanky, who proceeded to sit next to her and say hello, calling her by name. Naturally, this freaked her out, as she had never seen this man before.

As she approached her classroom the next day, she saw pictures of two men outside the door and proceeded to freak out. One of them was the man in her dream. She didn't stay scared for long, as soon she learned that man's name: Abraham Lincoln.

tl;dr My mom dreamed about the 16th president before she had even seen him, and he called her by name.

Incident #2: The Haunted House

Not much to talk about here. Mom stayed with her grandparents for about six weeks and heard a lot of unaccounted for footsteps and things going bump in the night. Standard haunted house stuff.

Incident #3: The Sign

This one is way more recent. A few years ago, Mom was taking the back road home from work. We live very much on the outer edges of Utah suburbia and so this road was usually pretty empty. Just speed limit and deer crossing signs. Out of the darkness, Mom sees a sign that had never been there before, one indicating that she was on a Native American reservation of some sort. She takes that route again the next day, sign isn't there. She later googles the name of the reservation and finds out it is in Canada. Nowhere near us.

I would be lying if I said I wasn't sort of jealous of her knack of attracting these sorts of phenomenon. Then again, if I lived in a haunted house, it would not be for long.