Ghost Story

 

  

My bones are in the ground.  So what?

 A mother doesn’t stop being a mother, and a grandmother needs to keep on top of things too.

I watch over the incarnate bones, in all their innocence and also crime.

It’s a big house here. Everything I was and everyone I loved are present and accounted for.  Both those in the body and those in here.

Time vanished when I entered this house.  I walk from room to room unhindered. My birth cohabits with my death.   Every moment is here. It is hard to explain to you incarnate bones. When I was there, I felt as if each moment was a fleeting loss.  Now, now and now, gone forever.  Grief and pain stuck around, and then they left too. But each moment is here and accounted for.

Sometimes I go downstairs and sit beside one of you. Did you know?

I use the sights and sounds of your life to patch together my words.  I’m always talking.  If you just hold it all together in mind the words form from the pieces.  In fact, it’s damn hard to avoid truth.  Some of you work so hard at it. Word chosen deliberately.

I try not to frighten you. But, I love you.

Maybe I should frighten you a little. Every moment will be accounted for.

BOO!  Did you hear that?

*O*