Some years ago we bought a small house in the country near fort William in the Scottish Highlands. The man across the road had built the house using the original cottage he'd grown up in and used it as a holiday hire for a few years until he decided to sell. He lived across the road with his family so we became quite good friends. A few years after we moved in, sadly, he died. We were a little surprised to find the coffin in his sitting room when we went across the road to show our respects but each to their own. A few days later we were sitting in the living room when the door opened. It was a glass partition and no one was there. Nervous giggles but we had young kids and didn't want to spook them. Day or so later, in the evening, it happened again. The door swung open for no reason. Footsteps could be heard upstairs. The kids were def starting to spook so we told them it was just Jim and he'd forgotten that he'd moved houses when he was alive. And as they all knew Jim, they knew he wasn't someone to be scared of. So next time the door opened, we said to Jim that this wasn't his house any more and that he'd moved across the road. After a couple of days of this, the door opening and the noises stopped. So Jim presumably figured out that he had moved on. Apart from a generalised unease, we never found it terrifying or scary. Jim was a gentle man and wouldn't have hurt a fly.