There are many urban legends and downright scary stories about driving down a country road — running out of gas, seeing No Trespassing signs, seeing a ghost . . . 

    This real ghost story is a bit different — and maybe familiar. Yes, there is a ghost involved and a cemetery — an interesting combination.

    Normally, I’ve heard, ghosts don’t hang out at cemeteries. They’re busy haunting houses and hospitals, nursing homes, etc. They may be looking for closure . . . and some don’t realize they’re dead. That’s the strange thing . . . when you’re not sure you saw a ghost or not.

    Yes, this is my story — one of many real ghostly encounters.

    This “ghostly encounter” took place years ago — I would say 35 to 40 years ago. I was driving down this country road, lost in thought . . . and lost.

    I obviously made a wrong turn somewhere along the way. There were miles and miles of farm land. Fields of I don’t know what. I did see abandoned trucks and tractors in a field here and there. An old barn falling apart. Yes, there were “no trespassing” signs scattered here and there . . . and an old cemetery. There were a few cards parked outside. There was a funeral going on. I thought I’d stop and ask for directions after the ceremony.

    For some reason I parked my car, got out and began walking among the headstones.

    One caught my eye, it was overgrown with weeds. I started clearing the weeds away. The date on the headstone was 1849, 100 years before I was born. The death date was my birthday . . .

    I felt a chill . . . more like a tingle . . . it wasn’t uncomfortable, but it wasn’t comforting either. The name on the headstone was nothing familiar to me or similar to my name at all — we didn’t share the same initials — just the death day (my birthday) and the year (100 years before I was born).

    As I was clearing away the weeds, I was basically talking to myself and wondering who this woman was and what her life was like . . . I also wondered if there was a connection — besides her death day was my birthday with a 100 year gap.

    Obviously, I was a bit fixated on it — as I am now recalling my paranormal experience.

    I heard a voice behind me. “Hello. Thank you for clearing away my grave.”

    I thought I heard her wrong or maybe it was “her grave” in regards to being a relative.

    I immediately stood up and apologized for intruding . . . but no one was there. But off in the distance, I did see a woman walking away. I ran to catch up with her.

    I was so caught up in what had happened that I didn’t ask for directions, but I wanted to know about the woman who’s grave I just cleared.

    The woman seemed very relaxed and spoke of “Margaret”, the woman who died in 1849 as though it was yesterday.

    “It was a beautiful day and a lovely ceremony. Paul, Margaret’s husband was devastated. Their four young children — the youngest at home . . . Margaret died in childbirth. It was a girl . . . ”

    My head was whirling with questions — was this woman Margaret or the daughter — but that would make her over 100 years old — it wasn’t possible . . . maybe the granddaughter of Margaret???

    Would she refer to herself in the third person if this woman beside me was Margaret??

    I didn’t care if this woman thought I was a bit coo-coo . . . so I just asked, “Are you Margaret? The woman who died in childbirth?”

    She did laugh, but not in a cruel way, “Of course I am!”

    Oh my gosh!!! She was a ghost!!! She had to be . . . or she was goofing with me.

    “So . . . ” I began, but stopped. I couldn’t take in the fact that I was seeing and having a conversation with a ghost . . . So I did what I do when I’m nervous . . . I started babbling about how I was looking for my grandmother’s house which had been bought and moved out in the country. “I must have made a wrong turn and I ended up here. I found this overgrown grave and started clearing away the weeds . . . and now . . .”‘

    “I brought you here.”

    “What? Why?”

    “You passed your grandmother’s house a few miles back. You wouldn’t recognize it, the beautiful porch is gone and I didn’t think it would be right for you to see it. Keep your memories of how it once was and the good times you shared there with your grandmother.”

    And then she was gone!! Gone, gone . . . I didn’t see her walk away, she just vanished.

    I did see a ghost . . . she did do me a favor by not allowing me to see how my grandmother’s house had changed with the move . . . I suppose I did her a favor by clearing her grave of weeds . . .

    But . . . I believe I received so very much more than she received from me . . . Or, perhaps, it was mutual to a degree of a ghost being able to have a conversation with a living person . . . a conversation, just like one would have with another living person . . .

    Thanks for stopping by!

    Sharon