So earlier today someone posted a status update about phobias in general. At one point on this update someone else posted about a fear of the paranormal and shared a personal experience about it, to which a bunch of people (myself and the OP included) hijacked said status update to share our own paranormal stories instead of continuing to talk about our own fears. This status kept getting so many updates that the actual conversation quickly became lost due to the limited size of each post. (I think before it got buried beneath the 5 most recent updates it had broken 40 responses) and a lot of those stories interested me, but I feel that some details were missed because of how fast everyone was trying to talk at that point and answer others and all of that. (and I'm also curious to hear from people who weren't a part of that conversation, since so many people responded in such a short time-frame to the status I've got to wonder if, to quote one of said people "rpgmakerweb: Where EVERYONE'S had some paranormal experiences." is possibly a valid statement or not. Given that and the nature of some other off topic threads I figured that this one deserved an off topic topic as well. So I'd like to ask anyone that has had one and feels like sharing to tell us of any paranormal/unexplained experiences you've had in life. These can be scary/ghost stories yes but any unexplained phenomena is perfectly fine, not just the scary kind. If you are an absolute anti-paranormal person who believes that anyone who has had said experience is either delusional or flat out lying then please don't participate here. The one thing this thread idea is not about is debating, it's about one's own experiences in life, and I really don't want it to degenerate into the type of thread where someone has to defend their own personal experiences or their beliefs on a scientific/religious/any level. I will start with my own, singular experience into what could be defined as a paranormal experience. My father died when I was 9 years old from a rare form of stomach cancer that spread all throughout his body quickly after being discovered/attempted to treat. From the time that he was diagnosed with this disease he had little to no time to devote to me and my little brother anymore, always going to/from and then recovering from all the treatments. (This cancer was so rare that next to no research had been performed on it in the past, so from what I now understand the approach to his treatment was kind of a shotgun approach involving a mix of some of the stronger types of chemo therapy and radiation in the hopes that it would have positive effects.) He continued to deteriorate steadily and in less than two years from diagnosis he passed. I don't remember how I felt or what I thought in the days that followed. What I remember is that during the visitation I was in the lobby eating (it's a Georgia thing, from what I can tell. If you've been to a funeral in Georgia you probably know this, otherwise you're wondering 'why the hell is there food at the visitation?' I don't really know why, just that there was.) and my father comes up to me and asks me to follow him. He leads me out of the funeral home and into the woods nearby and we start to walk and to chat. We weren't talking about the usual types of things that you'd expect a man and his 9 year old child to talk about, however. My father opened up to me that day in a way he had never done before. He told me things that I had no hope of understanding (and didn't understand) for years yet, from his own views on life and family, religion and how to grow up to mistakes he had made and regrets he had died with (he never said died with, but I later realized that is what he meant.) That is what I remember most, the regret in his voice as he talked to me, along with the fact that he kept apologizing and insisting that he always believed he'd have more time to do this than he had. It didn't seem at all like a lot of time had passed but when our conversation was finished he told me that my mother was worried about me and that I should go back. I remember that I asked him if he was coming with me or something along those lines and he just smiled and shook his head. I don't remember him vanishing or anything, I just went back like he had told me to (sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I had been thinking more clearly and questioned more of what was happening, but like I said I can't even remember what was actually going through my head at the time I experienced this.) and realized quickly that more than three hours had passed and everyone was panicked over my disappearance. Upon revealing what I had experienced my family pretty much universally wrote it off as the grief-driven fantasy of an over-imaginative child. My mother was even more concerned than this and actually had me see a couple of doctors for a time to make sure I was mentally stable and sane I guess. I might have come do dismiss my experience as just that after a time (in fact I believe that there were moments growing up that I was close to doing so) but there were just to many things wrong with that belief. I wrote down every word I could remember of the last conversation I had with my father (he even stressed the importance of remembering it to me at one point during the conversation, which made me think to do so in the first place) in a blank notebook and it filled like 1/3 of it up front and back with information that there was no way that my mind could have come up with at the time to create a hallucinogenic fantasy with. One thing that stuck with me even early on was the statement. "Don't always worry about what is true all of the time. Be open to the possibility that anything and everything you hear might be true, but reserve your trust only for those things which are important enough that you would be willing to stake your life on." I believe that this statement and the vein in the conversation that it stems from came directly from him knowing that 1. I was a kid and I wouldn't not try to share this story with my entire family, and 2. that they would mostly write it off and try to convince me that it was nothing. It came to mean so much more to me, as I grew up I came to question everything and eventually this lead to a falling out in regards to my 'family's religion' as well as religion in general that I can kind of trace back to this day and the reaction I got. I have developed according to that statement and have attempted to be open to new knowledge of any kind and not allow filters of any kind to determine what I believe or don't believe, if something is not 100% provable to me either as a reality or a falsehood I view it as something worth learning more about at, regardless of whatever personal skepticism I might have developed because of culture/upbringing/ect... I didn't begin to fully understand the things in that notebook until I was around twenty years old, eleven+ years after writing it. I still occasionally read through it from time to time and I'll even compare myself on occasion to the man that was my father and that is always a pretty big mix of emotions to see where I followed his advice and where I was to immature to understand it and did stupid things that I was warned about and had to suffer the consequences on my own. And more importantly, to see what I've become and compare it to what he was, I was influenced a lot by my father's last words and in some ways that even drove me away from the paths that I know he'd have wanted me to take in life (like religion) but I can't help but thinking when I read his thoughts that if he were alive we would be very close today and he'd be proud of my path overall, because it was different than his. I've talked enough now, so someone else share their own paranormal/unexplained stories. I know a lot of you have them because what is life if not a series of unanswered questions awaiting answers?