RANDOM HAUNTS

I walked past a conference room and from the corner of my eye, I saw a younger version of Chris standing at the podium. Leaning on the podium is more like it, with his chin resting in his hand so that his index finger rested on his upper lip in the same way Chris would rest his chin in his own hand. His hair cut was the same short cut. Same glasses. Same shaped head. I am a little amazed at the details I remember considering I was flying by and barely looked into the room. Though there was enough resemblance for me to look twice.

There’s an older gentleman that I run into often at a convenience store between work and home. He always teases me about riding my scooter so fast and ends each interaction with “You be safe out there, girl.” He has my dad’s mannerisms. The way he carries himself. The way he talks to me. The shape of his nose. He doesn’t look enough like Dad for me to have a moment where I forget reality, but I always walk away with a picture of Dad in my head, him grinning while holding up a brown paper bag of peanuts. Who could have ever imaged how much peanuts would define Dad in that latter part of his life?

We are entering my haunting season with a bang.

Ho’oponopono Prayer: I love you. I’m sorry, Please forgive me. Thank you.

I chanted this prayer out loud to myself while my Self Care Circle group sat in their own spaces chanting this prayer, all of us visible through zoom windows. All of us had our mics on mute. I could only hear Roze’s voice as she guided us and my own voice. Josephine was curled up in my lap, looking up at me and for a brief few rounds, I was speaking those words to her even though those words are meant for me. Instead of saying those words to myself, I said them to Dad. I said them to Chris. I even said them to J for not talking him out of enlisting or even trying to talk him out it. Finally, I gave in and said those words to myself.

I love you.

I’m sorry… for placing the blame on myself…for moving us away from our friends and family…for not being there in the end…for the moments I allowed my grief to make me hateful and bitter…for not protecting my own heart…for my inability to control the uncontrollable… for the moments when I can’t breath because I’ve taken care of everyone else’s oxygen mask first…for not quite being the woman you want…for being my worst enemy…for all the things…for the thoughts I do not speak out loud.

Please forgive me.

Thank you.

I carry this prayer with me as I move into the season of hauntings, whispering all of it to myself at each ghostly encounter, each moment of self disappointment. Because the dead cannot, will not, absolve me. I will never hear Chris tell me that it was not my fault. I will never hear Dad tell me that I was right where he wanted me to be on his last day. I will never hear J tell me that he wouldn’t have listened to me anyway. It’s all up to me. Like so much of everything. The laundry isn’t going to wash itself; the bathroom isn’t self cleaning. I have to do those things. I have to provide my own absolution.

I love you

I’m sorry

Please forgive me

Thank you

No more. No less.