I know it’s going to happen tonight. All the signs are right. Children off on their own, husband away on business, my two best friends gone on vacations with their families.
I am alone. Finally.
For the past two months I’ve been preparing for this time, not knowing that it would come, but preparing nonetheless.
The sun finally loses its power over gravity and sinks down into the dark rose horizon. The moon floats ahead, but herds of black clouds cover its cheerful shine, darkening the sky and the earth below.
I turn off the lights to the living room, the hallway, then the stairway, and finally my bedroom.
I am swathed in glorious blackness.
I close my eyes, then open them so the room is revealed to me like a developing photo in a dark room. Familiar shapes and shadows relax me.
Then an unfamiliar form floats from the window to the door and stops a few feet away.
“Virginia?” I ask. She nods her head. I see no face, no female body, but still, I know it’s my dear friend of many years, my mentor, dead over 15 years now. I have talked to her so often in my prayers, but never a response.
Now she speaks, though no words fill the room.
We revel in memories of the life we shared, and she laughs heartily. My soul fills with the sound. I have missed it, but now realize that it has always been part of me, and shall remain so.
She answers my personal questions of what lay beyond. I won’t tell you what she says.
Felicity, my cat, creeps into the room, staring at me with her yellow eyes. I’m afraid she may think her mistress has lost her mind, but instead she meows to me. “Why stay here? Take a cat nap and see the world.”
Oh, I suddenly realize; I’ve always been able to go back and forth between worlds. I just don’t nap enough.
I close my eyes, feeling Virginia’s presence close at hand. We soar off through the window panes into the black night. I am so happy my heart balloons twice its size. I see George, then, and grandmama, and, of course, Pauli. They are just as free as me.
We head toward the prism that has suddenly appeared, and just as suddenly we’re in a garden of roses and delphiniums and hydrangeas. The soil is moist and smells like cut grass, starfish, and summer moonlight. Felicity joins us and converses with a butterfly.
“Change is imperative,” the colorful flying insect says wisely.
I wink and find myself back in my dark bedroom, seated Buddha style, petting Felicity in soft gentle strokes. She gazes up at me and says only one word in a long, low purr.
“Llllllooooooovvvvvvvveeeeeeeeee.
“Sometimes the soul takes pictures of things it has wished for
but never seen.” (Anne Sexton)
Lovely – delightfully strange, yet comforting. Aren’t connections to the spirits and souls of people gone from our daylight lives what we all continue to search for in the deep recesses of our unconscious minds?
By: thestorywoman on October 26, 2012
at 3:59 pm
Yes, I think you’re right – always looking for ‘connections’ – in AND out of our ‘daylight’ realm.
By: roughwighting on October 27, 2012
at 1:53 pm
So that’s why cats take so many naps and often appear to be gazing at something or someone unseen to me. I love the mood in this story, finding comfort and peace and connection in the mystery of darkness and being alone. Mesmerizing…
By: Barbara Rodgers on October 26, 2012
at 6:22 pm
Thank you. I’ve never owned a cat, but Felicity came right to me in this story. She gave her own answers to us, didn’t she?
By: roughwighting on October 27, 2012
at 1:54 pm
How wonderfully uplifting for a ghost story! Most of the ones I write are of a similar nature, connecting with those who have gone beyond the veil. It also fits in well with my Scary October, so tomorrow, I might post a link over here so others can enjoy your story.
By: mywithershins on October 26, 2012
at 11:52 pm
Thanks so much – I’d love to be ‘linked’ with you. Reading your posts, I had a feeling this is the kind of ‘scary’ you and I enjoy – almost wishful thinking scary??? :+0
By: roughwighting on October 27, 2012
at 1:56 pm
Sigh. What a lovely bedtime story! Thank you.
By: Joan Leacott on October 27, 2012
at 3:19 am
Hope you had a good night’s sleep! Yes, I would like more bedtime stories like this – where the answers are there, maybe just beyond our reach…
By: roughwighting on October 27, 2012
at 1:57 pm
[...] roughwighting‘s ‘A Ghost Story’ [...]
By: Scary October #27 | mywithershins on October 27, 2012
at 2:30 pm
Pam, Your post is both timely and comforting. My brother passed away last week after years of dealing with many different issues. It was not totally unexpected. I’m hoping that at some point he will “pay me a visit” so that I can be assured that he’s finally at peace.
By: soonie2 on October 27, 2012
at 4:51 pm
Sorry to hear of your loss. As the woman says in this ‘Ghost Story,’ I believe your brother is always in and around you.
By: roughwighting on October 27, 2012
at 8:52 pm
Change is imperative…yes…I’ve heard that ghost story, too. I 100% completely believe in Virginia AND speaking cats. Thank goodness you’re open to it, that’s all I have to say.
By: Kathy on October 28, 2012
at 8:18 pm
My door is always open, let’s say….
By: roughwighting on October 29, 2012
at 1:40 am