Supernatural or not?

Despite my growing fascination with supposedly real-life supernatural events, thanks to my reading such magazines as Fortean Times and Paranormal and watching documentaries on the Discovery, History and Travel channels, I remain skeptical on whether ghosts exist.

That's not to say I don't believe in the after life. I know when my aunt passed away in 2000, after being in a coma for several weeks, I was told she had a smile on her face, thus proving to me where her spirit went. That is provided you believe that upon death and having lived a good Christian life, your eternal reward awaits you in heaven.

On the other hand, I still don't believe the story my grandfather told me a few years ago:  He said he awoke early one morning to see his bedroom completely illuminated with a very bright white light lasting several minutes.

No lamps were on, he said. He told me he thought it was my late grandmother trying to tell him something. I still say it was probably a porch light from next door that shined in through the bathroom window right across the hall from his bedroom.

I have, however, had a few strange things happen to me at work when I am alone. But in my three years there, the occurrences haven't bothered me to the point I think the place is haunted. A couple of co-workers have told me that when they're alone working in the building, they've felt like they heard voices.

I can explain every occurrence that's happened. The ticking noise I hear coming from one side of the office sometimes is probably some computer or alarm system resetting itself. The reason I heard a loud bang, which was my manager's metallic name tag hitting the floor one night, was most likely because the plastic clip holding it finally just broke on its own.

I could not find what fell on one of my co-worker's desk one Saturday afternoon, since my cubicle is in the opposite end of the office. I assumed whatever it was rolled under the desk somewhere. I wasn't about to go looking for it. I am not maintenance.

I am fairly certain the sounds I hear on the roof at night are either squirrels or raccoons or just the building settling. The wasps that I have seen flying around sometimes are not something out of "The Amityville Horror," where masses of flies were milling about a bedroom window. The wasps either got in through the vents or have nests inside. God help them when they see me.

Granted, when I am in the men's restroom I have sometimes heard the womens' restroom door open up like someone was in the building. I continue to assume security was there at the time and used the restroom before leaving, though I never bothered once to see if their police car was parked outside.

Even if I had learned there was no one in the building at the time and that door opened up on its own, I still wouldn't believe the place is haunted. I can understand, though, how some could make that assumption. My dad did that back on Nov. 1, 2009. It was one month after my grandfather passed away.

My dad awoke to find the living room in disarray like maybe the house had been robbed. The lounge chair my grandfather sat in when he came over was in an upright position as though someone sat in it and was facing the television. On the right side arm of the chair was the remote. The television was set to a Christian cable station my grandfather watched in the early morning hours. Several pictures were lying face down while in the kitchen one of the chairs my grandfather sat in was now on the table like in that kitchen scene in "Poltergeist" (1982). Cabinet doors were also opened.

That moment my dad was convinced my grandfather had come back as a spirit and was trying to tell him something. He even spoke to a priest at church about the "supposed" supernatural events he saw over the past two days. The priest gave him some special leaves that are used to calm spirits. My sister contacted one of her friends who knew a psychic because she had a problem with an actual ghost.

I couldn't keep a straight face when my parents questioned me about whether I had something to do with it. After all, it's always the quiet ones people have to suspect.

To quote the evil Irish toymaker Conal Cochran in "Halloween III: Season of the Witch" (1982), "I do love a good joke and this is the best ever."

I admitted to everything my dad wrote down on a notepad of all the different "occurrences" he saw over the past two days with the exception of two things he listed. He wrote that the cabinet doors in the bathroom were also opened and soap was moved.

I didn't do that. Perhaps it was my grandfather who as a spirit saw what I was doing and decided to join in. Not that I believe in that sort of thing.

To this day, whenever I see my sisters-in-law on the holidays and my parents haven't yet arrived, they dare me to put the chairs on the kitchen table before they get there.