Ghosts

No, I do not have a sixth sense and I do not see dead people, although the long gone do sometimes cause me to change the way I respond in certain situations. They shared themselves with me; the good and the bad.  Let’s face it, we are the sum of all of our experiences.

Sometimes I imagine hearing my grandmother’s voice saying something encouraging for a situation she never knew about, or likely could never have imagined. I can see her body language, and the grin on her tiny, lovely face. A simple passing from life does not sever a life connection with someone who I understood and who understood me so deeply. Sadly I suppose, it is not within me to believe that this, or any other wonderful person from the past is really still alive in some other ghostly place. In some cases, where the ghost is less supportive or friendly, that is a good thing.

I suppose my belief in ghosts is like my belief in dreams. Do they tell us anything important? It is all in the interpretation likely. Sometimes my ghosts are very critical of the way I am handling a situation. When I am about to treat a friend badly by ignoring them, maybe thinking I’ve been slighted when in reality it is just possible they are preoccupied with their own lives (imagine that) I have a brief, ghostly encounter with an older, very dear friend who died some years ago now. We had a falling out just before he got sick and to make a sad story short, we never did have a chance to reconnect.

Ideas sometimes come to me as though they have been sent from some ‘idea-farm’; grown and raised then shipped fresh to a brain near me. This particular concept is not original, but I will promise that before I read it, I had thought it too. The book, “One” by Richard Bach is a story of parallel lives, and beautifully written. This blog has given me a small glimpse into how an author must feel. Here I am, giving birth to these embryonic ideas, nurturing them for a while, then sending them out into the world to fend for themselves. Does this make me a ghost for you now?

Just now, my Grandfather stopped by. He told me that I get the strangest ideas and I say the craziest things, but he likes hearing this stuff anyway, so I shouldn’t stop.  'Oh, and by the way I really don't understand this trans stuff, but you know, I love you anyway'

Yes, it is all in my mind, but every now and then these phantoms stop by and see me (Halle) as I really am, and it is revealing to gauge their reactions.

How about you; do you believe in ghosts?

Halle