The Haunting

This has been the toughest thing in my life; being dead. It's a lot harder than people think, if they think about it. I never used to and now I wish I had.

My death was an accident. My aorta tore open and they couldn't patch me up.  I thought I just had some gas pains. Uhhh, guess I missed that one by a mile. I realized I was gone when I saw myself. That floating around outside and above yourself is true.  It's scary but cool at the same time until you understand that you can never go back to share it with everyone; tell them you are okay; there is no pain... lalala... nope. It's just lights out and you see yourself through a filmy veil.

They had a nice service for me. There were a lot of tears; even my own.  They picked the wrong dress and nobody did my nails. The reception afterward was kickin though and that was JUST what I wanted.  Me? I heard it all like I was leaning against a wall with a glass to my ear.  I paced around a lot; lost but searching. I talked to them when they spoke to me; or to God when they were angry and sad but no one heard.  I wanted to hold them and help. I couldn't communicate no matter how I tried.  I wish I'd have taken up an interest in ghost hunting.

So I waited.  I hung around. Where? Well, I'm not sure.  I think I spent some time at the hospital.  That was a dark place that smelled like pee pots and alcohol. Or it could have been a bar. I have been in some seedy places.. Lots of noise. Vision is something that you lose in death.  Hearing and feeling are your best resources.  I felt a lot; sadness, anger, frustration... the emotions become your conversation.  I learned to project them to make myself known.  I know I did this because I heard the night crew talking about how sad they were when they were in my room. Then  I floated.  I don't know what else to call it.  I spent a little time at the cemetery.  I looked at my grave and the other graves.  We can't always see each other; ghosts I mean.  I felt them.  Boy there were some pissed off souls in there lemme tell ya and those folks in those tiny "grave houses"... wow they are totally vicious; like wild animals. They growl and snap as you go by. They try to trick you in to coming near because they want to use you as a vessel to get out.  They are trapped in there somehow. Wow. I was happy just sitting on the bench and looking at my flowers. Cemeteries are peaceful places.  It's full of life if you just take the time to feel it.  I met some nice people. We talked sometimes about our lives but we all leave there. We search for a little something more... familiar.

At last I floated to my house.  It smelled like stew in the crock pot and fresh laundry.  I love that smell.  It drew me ... I went home.  I could hear them; my family. They were still sad. I lost track of time, but I didn't think it had been too long.  I wandered around the halls and sat with them.  I listened to their heavy sighs and felt their sense of loss.  Loss is a big word when it comes to life.  They didn't care about cleaning anymore.  The toilet bowls needed a little scrub.  The kitchen floor wanted to be mopped and the dust was begging for a healthy shot of pledge.  Meals were pretty quiet with fractions of  the conversations we used to share; once filled with laughter, teasing, even a few tantrums and tears... this was all gone. It was numb.  That broke my heart.  No one should be numb. Even ghosts feel.

I was watching my family die right behind me. Well I couldn't have that so I began to haunt.  I was waiting around on God or the Devil or SOMEONE to accept me or turn on the light or something but it wasn't happening and I quite frankly had the time.

I started out slowly at first because I was a good ghost, I didn't want to frighten them; especially my youngest.  I would visit him after school while he was struggling with his algebra.  It started as a breeze while I tried to give him answers.  He didn't  notice at first but then as I got better, he became aware. He would stop to listen for me or feel my presence.  He even asked "Who's there?" Well I was getting pretty cocky at that stage so I flipped my picture near his nightstand.  He ran out and slept in the den. I was frustrated.  But after a couple of days, he began to address me. "Mom? Is that you?" Well I was pleased as punch lemme tell ya. I rushed in to hug him and tousle his hair.  I shouted yes as loud as my non voice would allow.  He must have caught it on his phone or something because he played it back.  It was garbled and weak but I was there.  We were communicating.  He reacted like my son... "Cool." with a head bob and a slip of the headphones.  He went back to ignoring me.  But he spoke to me in the morning before school.  He said goodnight to me before sleep.  I felt alive again.

Next came my daughter.  She was in her own little world so I knew it would be a tougher sale to pitch.  But I was getting better.  My son's acknowledgment seemed to give me strength.  I began by moving her stuff around that we used to share; clothes, jewelry.. simple.  She immediately charged in and smacked the crap out of her brother with angry accusations and threats.  He told her it was me. He knew what I was doing.  She hit him harder through some bitter tears and stormed out.  I followed her.  She cried hugging her pillow and muttered about what a sick jerk he was.  I sat next to her wishing I could hold her. This was really hard. I turned on her light and moved my picture a little.  That takes a lot of ghostly strength let me confess.  She watched with terror then she asked; just like my son.  I was so happy I screamed and grabbed her like we had won the charade championship of the world.  I flipped the lights on and off quickly and opened her closet door repeatedly (this I felt was a sure sign since i was always nagging about having it closed ~ your hang ups can be beneficial in a haunting) She sat very still and listened.  I shouted her nick name but it came as a whisper. However it was enough.She smiled, wiped her eyes and told me she missed me. Then she called her best friend Casey and went out for the first time in weeks. Maybe months. It was hard for me to tell.  Death can do that to you

And so we were a family again. I made my presence known to each of them at different times during the day.  My son, being the late sleeper and slow poke in the morning, would be my first visit of the day.  I would gently come to him and wake him; tug his blankets or whisper to him.  My daughter was a a night owl.  I enjoyed catching her on the phone or her electronics passed permission of her dad. She rolled her eyes when I drained their batteries and I loved hearing that teenage "Mooooooom!" as she softly smiled and rolled over.

Their dad. Oh how I missed him. I was devastated to see his weight loss and his slumping through the house ~ so lost and alone. I missed his laughter and the twinkle in his eye. At night I would sit in our room; on our bed.  Sometimes I would even lie with him.  He had pulled so far into himself I almost felt as if I was intruding; a guest.  I was certain that I could help him; make it easier in his heart if I made myself known.  The kids were already on board and so it seemed like a natural progression; the best for last.

But he didn't respond. He didn't hear me or see me.  He seemed oblivious.  Even when the kids hinted or suggested that it was me: the lights, the TV on and off, the shadows and cold spots.He dismissed it.  But I noticed he was awake at night and I saw him listening; watching.  I thought he was coming around.  I just had to be patient.  I saw the Christmas tree go up and so I at least had a time frame.  I had missed my second Christmas.  I wanted to share that with them. With him. I hid the wrapping paper and moved ornaments on the tree. I unplugged the lights and made sure carols were played every night.

Then one day I felt something strange.  I felt anger.  I went downstairs to find the kids thinking there had been a spat; teens ARE teens after all.  Nothing. They weren't home.  I noticed my husband pacing through the house and checking the windows; waiting.

A car pulled up and a woman got out.  Oh Lord had I missed it?Had he found someone new? Oh I was sheepish and embarrassed.  I followed him around trying to explain as loudly as I could. I moved things and tipped our picture ~ "It's okay. You are allowed to live..." I tried to show him.

the woman came in and hesitated.  She smiled and they spoke softly.  She began to stroll through the house touching all of our things.  I wasn't happy about this.  She then spoke to me directly.

"Do you wish to communicate?"

I knocked.

"Do you wish to harm?"

nothing.

"This is dangerous ~" she said solemnly.

I was stunned. Dangerous? I began to flick the lights. I shifted things and drained the camera batteries she brought in.  I needed my husband to hear me.

"Show yourself you coward." she snapped.

Coward? Really? I began to feel frustration with this woman who didn't know jack crap about me so I thought I would do just that. I would make the shadow the kids had become accustomed to.  He would see me, hear me and then he would understand. I could save him, maybe even love him again.  But as I did this and as I shouted his name, our anniversary and that I missed him the woman swooped in.  She had a smudging stick burning.  It sickened me.  She began to pray and draw salt circles.  They stung and burned me.  I couldn't see or hear.  She told me it wasn't my house.  She told me I wasn't wanted.  I fought though. I swung the chandelier in the hall. The one I had begged for like a child at Lowe's.  I threw the pillow across the room; the one I had embroidered at girl scout camp when our daughter was little and I'd had to sleep on a wood plank in sweltering heat.  I did everything I could but I was feeling weak. Ill.  I couldn't hear them. I had trouble seeing.  Then the kids came home from school.  They ran to the circle and kicked at it.  They cried and begged her to stop

It was too late.  I felt the pull.  My house began to fade away around me. I was crying and scrambling to reach them.  I called to them one last time. I told them I was safe. I loved them. I would wait.
And the woman smiled, turned and said. The spirit has moved on.  There will be no more disturbance.

I was stunned at having just been exercised from my home; cast out of my life. Now I don't know where to go. It's like my key doesn't work in the lock. It's dark here. Cold. I'm lonely and sad. I wander around and listen for voices; life. When I hear them, I go toward them, feeling comfort and warmth.~ like a light. I am careful though to stay back and not infringe. That is a painful lesson I don't want to learn twice.

This is my future? My eternity? It seems so empty and anticlimactic. If you can read this or if you hear me, don't be afraid. I'm simply looking for a family. I want some company.

Let me in?


I really like this one. It came to me after a long talk with a friend. I know the end is a little jumbled, but the overall pull is there. I hope you enjoyed it too. Thanks for coming over to hang out . It's always nice to see you.  I hope you had a great weekend. Until next time, enjoy your days.