What you are about to read is true, it is a re-telling of an event that my father told me. It was told to him by his grandmother, and so the story lives on.
It was the late 30’s in Portland, Oregon and my grandmother had gone into the outbuilding garage to do laundry. In those days laundry machines were rarely inside the house. In the building was a latter which led to a loft where my great grandparents kept their boxes of storage. All of which had remained untouched for years.
My great grandmother went about her day, washing clothes and hanging them to dry. Until she heard rustling up in the loft. She thought maybe it was an animal that climbed up there and decided to go see.
But to her surprise what she found was an elderly lady going through the boxes of photographs. She called out to the lady “Hello”. The lady did not respond — again she said hello and nothing.
“Can I help you” my grandmother would ask, but the elderly lady continued her gaze into the boxes of photographs. No words were spoken. Thinking that perhaps the elderly lady had wondered away from the retirement home down the block she returned to the hose to place a phone call. Continue reading
Do you see it? You step out the front door into the cold, the harshness of wind sweeps at your feet, and there’ this reality that Ghosts are following you. We see them through light streaming in windows, cross hung on walls, love passed. And as I sat here writing this post my lights flickered, and then shut off. I am going to have to save this post, there is no reason as to why my lights should suddenly have shut off, there is no storm out, it is not raining. I sit here writing this post listing to this song. – “I hope that it’s true we will meet again”…
I used to play this on my guitar, but it was never anything like this.