Chasing Ghosts

Believe what you want to (or, as the case may very well be, don’t believe what you don’t want to), but the fact of the matter is, that strange and inexplicable things, perplexing coincidences, and odd happenings, occur in all our lives. Personally, I can think of many examples, in my own. For today’s blogging purposes, however, I will limit these to the ones shared through the eyes of my daughter.

All babies laugh at ceilings and walls, giggling and chirping at what; we blind and ignorant grown-ups, can only imagine. I was talking to a fellow new mother, a few months after Kyra was born and, it turned out, we had both been experiencing the same phenomenon. Both of our daughters would laugh and play with something/someone we couldn’t see. We both noticed that our daughters’ eyes would clearly follow whatever spectre was entertaining them. She assumed her little girl was talking to angels, where I figured my kid was playing with ghosts. Thus began my journey, as a mom, into the world of weird.

Since she’s gotten older, and begun to express herself more frequently and clearly, I’ve noticed she has an incredibly vivid imagination. There have been several instances, however, that an overactive imagination cannot explain away. A couple of very specific things, said and done very precisely, lead me to believe that she is, perhaps, very connected to a realm outside of what most of us can perceive.

She refers regularly to her dead grandfather, calling the recliner in the living room, “Grandpa’s Chair”, where he sits with her. He used to “protect her from the monster (at the back door)”, which she described as a “big, tattooed Daddy”. A little dried sage took care of the “monster”; she hasn’t seen him, since. She once, right after her dad’s grandmother died, sat up abruptly, looking rather confused and asked, “Where’s Gary at?”. Gary, being the first name of the dead woman’s son, and my ex’s father. I’ve seen her get tickled, with nobody there, writhing on the floor and giggling. When I asked who was tickling her, she said, “Buddy”. I have no idea who Buddy is, but he seems to be around her age and he usually has a lollipop. At least, the lollipop is usually mentioned, by Kyra. Now, he could be an imaginary friend, I don’t know. All I can do is take what she tells me and interpret it. If you’d ever seen her get tickled, by nobody, you might not jump on the imaginary friend bandwagon, though. I will say that much.

I never know how to react to this stuff. Naturally, I don’t want people I can’t see, messing around with my daughter…it makes a girl a wee bit nervous, you know. I usually just act like it’s no big deal and encourage her imagination, at play. I kind of assume we’re all like this, as babies, until some natural cynicism comes along and swallows our imaginations, whole, to the point that we can no longer conceive of ghosts, or cross-connecting, coexisting multiple planes of reality, who mingle every now and again, if only for the sake of our children.

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