Kiss the Cook

From: Erin (erin0257@hotmail.com)
Story type: Ghost
Location: Ft. Madison, Iowa
Source: Form Submission

First of all, I have read most of this archive and find it extremely fascinating. Thank to all who submit thier stories. Here's my one encounter:

Background: my grandfather loved to cook. He wouldn't let me near the stove and/or sink because he loved his kitchen utensils and machines so much. He died last October. And the layout of his house is that the one door leads from the living room to the kitchen and a door from the kitchen leads to the back porch where people enter if they're coming into the house.

I had turned 15 last January and that Easter, was visiting my widowed grandmother's home. While there, my mother, father, great-aunt, and grandmother all went out to dinner. I, feeling sick, decided to stay home and watch television. After about an hour alone, I started to get bored and decided to talk to my deceased grandfather. - I know what you're thinking. "Psycho!", but I am an only child and do spend most of my time talking to myself or God. - Anyway, after about 70-80 minutes of filling him in on what's been going on in my life since his death, I decided to get something to drink. I got out of the chair I was sitting in, his favorite chair by the way, and went into the kitchen. It was dark outside and the light was on in the living room, so I didn't turn on the kitchen lights. I got a glass out of the cabinet and walked over to the sink to get some water. Behind the sink is a mirror. Don't know why, but there is mirror from one corner of the cubby place to the other. As I got my water, I looked into the mirror and saw through the doorway that led to the porch, I light. A white light that was in the corner between the wall and the door. It seemed like it was staring into the kitchen. I assumed that it was my imagination and went back into the living room.

Later, as I thought over what I saw, I remembered that the aparition was white. My grandfather almost always wore a white shirt. And it was in the kitchen, his favorite room. Still, I thought it to be my imagination, but my friend's reminded me of something when I told them of this whne I returned home. I had been talking to him practically that entire night.

With that in mind, I do hope that it was him that I saw. It would let me know that he's all right and watching out for us.