I often wonder if Ghosts are real or a fantasy of my imagination.
A figment?
An illusion?
Why would they not be real?
Why would they be?
When I feel the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end while I’m alone, is that trickery? Or could it be someone reaching out to me from the grave.
Someone who couldn’t make it to the light, merely needing and wanting anyone to lead them to the other side?
You know that feeling of someone watching you complete your everyday habits when you are alone? Following in awe every move you make. Or the glimpse of someone or something from the corner of your eye that vanishes as soon as you turn your attention towards it.
If Ghosts exist, why wouldn’t they make it known?
Could those who have passed on from this world to another, still live along beside us?
Could we accept them?
Or choose not to?
Is it the brains way of teasing us when a familiar scent encircles our nostrils making us believe that our departed family member or dear deceased friend is close by? Or is this our way of keeping them alive in our hearts and minds?
Are we living in an empty circle of habits, wishing the last encounter with our lifeless loved one had lasted longer?
Been more meaningful.
More of everything it wasn’t?
Are they, wishing the same?
Could the one I cherish be waiting or even wanting for me to cross over into their world?
Or does she even know that I am alive and she is dead.
Could it be the living who is stuck between worlds?
Do the dead grieve with us?
Or for us?
When we die, will we see an illuminated pathway to another life and know to follow it?
Those who choose not to follow the path of eternity, do they wander aimlessly lost in a world where they no longer belong?
Or do they---
Belong?
If I close my eyes and imagine life without living, could I then see those who I couldn’t before? What If I spoke out loud to the dead, and a voice, a familiar voice, a voice that I’d heard a million times before suddenly answered me. Would I be afraid? Or could I carry on as if---
As if that familiar voice was coming from the person that I missed the most. The person whose body was laid to rest in a wooden box that was now surrounded by dirt and empty echoes from bodies who no longer walk this earth, but their spirits remain?
Is it possible the car crash that someone you treasure was involved in, miraculously walks away without injuries, been because a loved one’s spirit was there to save them from an unforeseen death? Did the dead fill the mangled car with his or her own invisible presence to keep your loved one alive?
Or could that car accident been caused by somebody who had passed away, and wanted to force a life to cross over. Before their time?
Have the living who have transformed into the spirit world truly left our sides?
When someone says
“Just like grandma used to make.”
Do they mean that?
Or is that our way of keeping Grandma alive in this world, when she no longer is not?
Comfort comes in different shapes and forms made up by our subconscious. A picture, a memory or story told over and over again to keep that lost loved one in our life.
When we tell someone
“Sorry for your loss.”
Are the dead the ones who are lost?
Or are we the ones---
Lost?
Could the reason why the dead cannot allow themselves to completely crossover into the afterlife be, from our desperate attempts to keep them alive by not letting them go?
By not letting the inevitable happen.
Are we the ones causing them harm by not?
If we are strong enough at the time of our loved ones passing to say the two words they needed to hear, the two words that would ensure them peace and security as they slipped away.
Could we?
Why is it difficult to set our selfish ways aside to comfort the one we love, when they need it the most?
Could you set aside your own self-interest in your loved ones last moments?
If the only words your loved one needed to hear were the words
“Good-bye”
Could you say them?