I See Dead People

When you’re alone, do you ever get a weird feeling that you’re not, well, alone? I do. Or, at least, I think I do. I don’t know, maybe I’m crazy.

Oh no, I’m definitely crazy. But maybe I’m also crazy about this.

I don’t necessarily see ghosts, but I feel presences. At least I think I do. Maybe it’s the fact that I want to believe that those who’ve crossed over, or maybe haven’t, watch over us. It’s not a constant feeling, but sometimes at home, I feel like somebody’s watching me—and not in the creepy, stalker way that you’re probably thinking. I just feel like someone is there, keeping an eye on things.

Sometimes, I’d like to think it’s Nan, but most of the time, I feel like it’s Opa.

I feel like it’s him because of the way things are. Oma’s been a widow for exactly thirty years as of Monday, and yet, she still keeps her bedroom light on for him. She still has some of his most prized possessions around the house, and only ever talks about what a great man he was.

After about twenty-five years of marriage, and then thirty years of being a widow, she is still in love with him. So I have a crazy theory that he keeps a close eye on her.

Maybe it’s the romantic in me that believes that, maybe it’s my connection with spirit, or maybe it’s just me being insane. I don’t know. I’d like to think I’m not wrong, though.

I also like to think that when big holidays come around, like Christmas and Easter and St. Patrick’s Day, that I can feel Nan close by. Maybe I just really wish that she was actually there, so a part of my subconscious tries to trick me with that chilling feeling of a ghostly presence. I won’t ever really know for sure, but I like to think that my gut feeling is right.

Maybe it’s because I talk to them every once in a while, or send thoughts. Maybe they hear me.

Maybe I’m just insane…who knows?

I honestly don’t know what to think about all of this. I have family members that are super sensitive to spirits, and swear that they can hear and see things, but maybe we’re all just trying to find some sort of relief system.

I feel like I think about the people that I’ve lost, or never got the chance to meet, more often that most people do. There almost never goes a day that I don’t think about Nan, and I wonder about Opa and Mika and my family friend/cousin, Matthew, very often. I don’t know why I do it, but I do. I wonder what they’d look like, sound like, act like; I wonder if they sit back and watch all the chaos going on, like we do to characters on TV.

And obviously we have no way of knowing what is actually going on, so instead, I sit back, and wonder.

Just last week, Oma’s longest friend from the states, my Uncle Louis, just passed away. I’ve already wondered if he’s found Aunt Joan, if she was waiting for him, if he’s met up with Opa, if he’s chuckling at the sight of all the nuts on the ground right in our backyard. I can’t really help myself but wonder what’s going on on the other side.

Does that make me weird? Possibly.

Do I feel like I have a support system, guiding me? Yeah, I’d have to say I do.

Do I miss them, and wish I could have actual conversations with them? Most definitely.

So while I wonder about it all, I will keep in mind that maybe they are all just watching over. For me, for the family, maybe even the world. I don’t know; there’s not much that I can do, but keep an open mind, and an open heart, and hope that my gut is right.


Prompt: Do you believe in ghosts? Have you ever seen one?

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A twenty-two year old who lives through words and her Netflix account. She makes herself laugh more than others, and she claims that she is okay with that.

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