The Man in the Fridge

Look closely at the left side of the fridge.  It’s a man and only myself and my female client were there that day.

In the Fall of 2016, I received a call from a recent widow to sell her home so she could escape the chilly Northwest and retire to the dry desert of Arizona.  Her husband had suffered a long and painful illness and had finally passed away at home on hospice in the back bedroom.

Mr. R was a Viet Nam, MIA military veteran that insisted the American flag flew in the front yard on a daily basis and it was still proudly waving in the wind when I arrived to view the home. It was a typical 1980’s split level that had a fresh coat of paint on the exterior, a beautiful, shaded driveway and a large, landscaped back yard with a shooting range.

Quite a few boxes full of memorabilia, pieces of furniture and garbage filled the home and garage that was to be sorted or discarded. My client showed me around the house and told me the clean up plan that was to happen in the next few weeks and I thought this would be a great home for a new buyer.  A routine question I ask all my Sellers is if they knew of anything that needed to be repaired before we put it on the market and she replied, “no, other than the garage door keeps going up and down in the middle of the night, but it’s probably just Roy being a pain; he never liked me to leave the door open because of safety.”  Apparently, he was afraid of intruders and kept several weapons on hand in case that happened.

Realizing she was talking about her paranoid, dead husband as if he was alive, I asked her if he was still around.  She matter of factly said “Oh yeah, he’s still here guarding his stuff”.  Perfect, I thought, another home with a ghost to wrangle.  It turns out, he was a pretty ornery sort of fellow that was very over bearing, mean hearted and rude.  She had endured his verbal and mental abuse for years and wasn’t unhappy when he passed over.  But did he?

I asked to also use the restroom while I was there as it was a good 50 minutes from my office. I went in the only bathroom on the upper level which had one door to the master bedroom and one to the main hallway.  I closed the main hall door, then went to close the bedroom door, when I felt someone pushing on it from the other side. I quickly opened the door to see what was going on and nothing was there.  I tried again and it happened again but with more force this time and I heard a man quietly laughing.  “Roy, is that you?” I asked out loud.  “Stop it”, I yelled and then easily shut the door.  That bedroom is where he suffered from his illness and eventually died.

In my experience, when such negativity encompasses a home for so long and pain and suffering are involved with the deceased and the family, there tends to be a lot of residual, negative energy that remains in the home.  So, unlike most of my colleagues, I offered to sage and cleanse the home to help him cross over into the light.  I asked her to make peace with him first though, “tell him you forgive him and ask him to seek the light” I told her. She said she would.

When I returned a few weeks later, the home was clean and cleared of debris.  She said the garage door had stopped acting up in the middle of the night and she felt like the home felt a little lighter.  So, I went about staging and taking photos for the my real estate listing.  This is the image we saw in the refrigerator on that day before the sage ritual.

I saged the home, asked for only Love and Light to fill the space and all negativity to exit.  The listing took a little while to sell, but a nice family finally made it home and my widow left for sunny Arizona.  When I returned to retrieve my For Sale sign and staging items, I noticed a canister decorated in the American Flag on the workbench in the garage.  It was her husbands ashes.  I guess she felt like he should stay there along with the painful memories and guard the garage door.  I had to laugh just a little; of all the things she could’ve left behind, I would never have guessed it would be her dead husband.  RIP Mr. R.

*The ashes were returned to her and she spread them over the Veterans memorial in AZ.

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