"Can Imaginary Friends be Real? The ghost of Iriving

This is probably one of my favorite ghost stories. It appears as the last chapter in my book, Ghosts of Long Island; Stories of the Paranormal. Every once in awhile, I like to revisit it because it's so classic. It gives me chills every time I read it. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.

Cheri and her family had moved into a house in Huntington sometime between 1966 and 1967. The house, which was built in 1940, was within walking distance to the Huntington Rural Cemetery, located on a quiet street. The Chapman’s began fixing up their new home when strange things started to occur. They had a lot of problems with the plumbing and with the electricity. Water would run for no reason, lights would go on and off, or flicker. She had plumbers and electricians in, and nobody could figure out what was causing these things to happen.

At the same time, her young son, who was four or five, started talking about his imaginary friend. Cheri and her husband didn’t think anything of it. All children have imaginary friends at some point. They had just moved and maybe it was a big adjustment for him. They were also so busy fixing up the house, that maybe the son was bored and just needed a friend.

Whatever the reason, the young boy said he did all kinds of things with his friend. One day he told his mother about some things he had seen in the attic. One of the items was a birthday present he had asked for. It was a truck, which had been hidden in the attic. Startled, Cheri asked how he could possibly know this. Her son replied, “I go up there with my friend." Cheri stopped for a moment, and started to reconsider this “imaginary friend." “What is his name?” she asked her son.

“His name is Irving,” the boy replied.

As time went on the relationship between the boy and Irving continued. So did the strange activity in the house. Still, the Chapman’s never put two and two together. The boy talked about Irving all the time, and how Irving talked to him, and played with him. Cheri became concerned when her son told her about the trips they took.

“Where do you go?” she asked.

“We float out of the attic, and we go to where he lives…in the ground.”

“What?” Cheri was stunned. What was her son talking about? “What do you see?” she asked.

“I see the bones and the dirt.” he said. “At first I was a little scared, but Irving talks to me and tells me it’s okay.”

She began to worry that her son might be going crazy.

Memorial Day weekend came around and Cheri and her family decided to attend Huntington’s annual parade. Because their house was so close to the cemetery which connects with New York Avenue, the Chapman’s cut through the cemetery on the Oakwood Road side to get to the parade route on New York Avenue. Halfway through the cemetery, Cheri’s son yelled, “Wait, that’s where Irving lives!” The boy pointed to a grave up on the hill.

At that point, her son and his imaginary friend had Cheri's full attention.

“Where?” she asked. “Show me.”

The young boy led his mother up to a tombstone. “Here,” he said. “This is where he takes me.”

Cheri looked at the tombstone, and to her astonishment it read, RIGGS, ROSE and IRVING.

How could this be possible? she thought. She had never taken her son into the cemetery. Nor did he know how to read. It was the first time she and her husband ever considered the fact that Irving could be a ghost.

The boy got older, and things continued to happen in the house. The Chapmans raised five children there. Cheri recalled a time when she was cleaning out the basement, and thought one of her children had come home.

“I heard the front door open, and from the basement I could hear someone walking around upstairs. I ran up to check and nobody was there. I thought it was one of the kids but it wasn’t. ‘My children would say to me, don’t worry, it’s only Irving.’”

Cheri had always confided in a friend she worked with about her son’s imaginary friend Irving. One day her friend was cleaning out the house of an aunt who had recently died. There were several boxes in the aunt’s attic, many of them containing photographs. As the woman was descending the stairs, a photo slipped out of the box. It was a picture of a man. She picked it up and asked her other aunt (the woman’s sister) “Who is this?”

“Oh, that’s Irving Riggs,” she replied, “our grandfather. He loved children.”

The woman was shocked. Could this be the same Irving - Cherie's son’s imaginary friend? When she spoke to Cheri, she found out the imaginary friend was definitely Irving Riggs.

The woman brought the photo over to the Chapman’s house. Cheri was amazed. During all these years, the house had been haunted by Irving, but the man had never even lived there. Was it possible that the close proximity of the cemetery had caused him to come and visit her son, because he loved children? It seemed impossible, yet there were too many coincidences.

Cheri and her friend sat over tea and talked about it for awhile. The friend left the photo with Cheri, who pinned it to the bulletin board next to the phone in the kitchen. A few hours later her son, who was now about seventeen years old, arrived home. He called out, "One minute, Mom, I just have to make a phone call.”

With that, Cheri, who had been sitting in the living room, heard the phone drop to the floor. She went into the kitchen to find her son standing there with the photograph.

“Where did you get this picture?” he asked.

“Why?” Cheri replied.

“Do you remember my imaginary friend, Irving? Well…this is him.”

Children, God, Death and the Spirit World

As adults we are often skeptical of things, whether it is a belief in ghosts, life on other planets or even God. Why are humans in general so skeptical? The answer is because most often people do not want to believe in something that they cannot prove, that they cannot see or touch, and that they cannot understand. I'm open to just about everything because I honestly feel that we humans don't have all the answers, however there are times when even I doubt. Sometimes you just have to believe and have faith.

When it comes to children, they have a much different attitude. They see goodness, magic and wonder in just about everything. Because of this openness, they oftentimes experience more spiritual and paranormal phenomenon than adults do, and sadly we brush off their experiences as childhood fantasy. This is not always the case. Children have a huge connection both to God and the world of the spirits. After all, they recently came from there. What's not to believe? It is up to us as adults to listen to them and to try and understand. At all of my lectures I tell the group to really listen to their children and be open to any experience they may be having. If a child tells you someone was in his room one night, or someone became an "imaginary" friend, listen to him. Hear what he has to say. You may discover something wonderful, and you may learn a thing or two along the way.

I bring this all up because of something truly amazing which my children recently experienced. It was a moment which strengthened my own faith and beliefs, and it brought me much comfort. So I decided I would like to share it with you in this blog. But first, I would like to say that death is a difficult concept for children to grasp whether it is the death of a person they love, or a beloved pet. It is heartbreaking to watch a child mourn, let alone when it is one of your own children. No matter how much you try to help them or comfort them, they have to ultimately work it out for themselves. It is a process and a difficult one at that. To try to help my children understand death, I have been extremely open about the subject. We have a strong faith background in the Catholic religion and in God. Because of the work I do, I have also studied death and life after death for years. I know without a doubt that the soul lives on and that spirit communication is possible. So between our religion, my research and my own experiences, I have done my best to convey the concept of death to my children to the best of my abilities. I do not want them to be afraid, and I want them to know that whoever it is that has died is not that far away; that they stay with us and visit us in spirit form.

So this brings me to my story. Two weeks ago, my almost fifteen-year-old cat had to be put down unexpectedly. We were absolutely devastated. It had come out of nowhere. Just two months before I had the cat at the vet for a routine exam, x-rays and blood work. He had a thyroid condition for a year which he was being treated for with medication. It required me to bring him to the vet every three months to make sure his levels were good. He was doing exceptionally well and there was absolutely no changes in his behavior, appetite or weight. He never looked like an old cat. So when he suddenly couldn't walk and refused to eat we were taken totally by surprise. He was very wobbly and had some sort of a seizure. We rushed him to the vet immediately and had more blood work done. Upon giving him an exam, the vet found a tumor that did not exist two months prior. It couldn't be seen and I never felt it. There were other sudden indications that revealed he was going downhill. The vet told us to bring him home and keep him comfortable and to observe him. He would have the bloods back early the next morning.

That night nothing had changed and the cat still refused to eat and he seemed uncomfortable. My husband and I decided, as hard as it was, that it would be best to put him down. We knew in our hearts that something was terribly wrong with him, and we did not want him to suffer. Our thoughts were confirmed the next day when we got the blood work back from the vet. We found out the cat's red blood count was completely different from his last visit. Even the vet was surprised. Whatever tumor he had was an aggressive one and his body was shutting down.

My husband and I were upset enough, but we still had to tell our two sons, ages ten and seven, of our decision. Of course they were extremely upset. My older child told me he had prayed to God for over an hour the night before. He prayed to Jesus to save his cat and make him well. He was disappointed and a bit angry that God did not answer his prayer. Another hard concept which I had to try and explain to him. After our discussion, I felt like he understood, but he was still upset.

About an hour before we were to bring the cat to the vet, my son came to me again and said he changed his prayer. This time he asked Jesus to give him confirmation that our cat would visit once he died and went to Heaven. He asked our cat too, to give him a sign so we would know he was here. I asked my son, what kind of sign did he ask for? He answered that if God was listening to him, and if everything I said was true about the spirits visiting, then our cat would knock over the bunny on the wicker love seat in our sunroom after he died. I looked at my son and wondered just what to say. This was a pretty tall order. 'We do get signs and God does listen,' I began. 'But we can't expect them to come immediately. Over time we will get a sign. I'm sure.'He shook his head in protest. 'If God is listening, he will come back.' My heart was broken at his request and I prayed that after everything was said and done that he would forget about it upon our arrival home. We simply can't expect God and spirits to answer on cue.

So the hour came. My husband and I decided to get rid of everything belonging to the cat before we left, instead of coming home to it afterwards which is much harder. Before I carried the cat out of the sunroom I fixed the cushion and pillows on the wicker love seat and straightened the antique bunny. The bunny is made of sturdy cloth and the body is weighted down so it doesn't move. The soft, spindly legs rested gently on the sofa cushion while the upper body sat firmly up against the back of the couch. The sunroom was in order and I was the last person to leave the room. The windows were closed; the dog was in another room in her crate. No one was left in the house. We went to the vet and did the inevitable. To try to take their minds off of the situation, we took the boys out for ice cream sundaes afterwards to try to numb the pain. We arrived home an hour or so later. By this point I had completely forgotten about my son's request. The boys however, went running into the house and straight into the sunroom. Suddenly I heard screams and crying. 'He was here! He was here!' they shouted. I didn't know what they were talking about. I ran into the sunroom, and to my utter disbelief...the bunny was completely face down over it's spindly legs.

God had listened, and so did the cat. He had come back on his journey to Heaven to say goodbye and to let us know that his spirit will always be with us. It took seeing things from the eyes of a child to know that anything from this world, or from the world beyond, is in fact... possible.