Ghosts in the Attic

   It’s very difficult to talk about death. We are all in different places of our trajectory of dealing with its stark reality. On one hand, there’s often much to process. On the other, it can be a slippery slope into the past - which in a very real sense - doesn't even exist. 

   This back and forth between melancholy and anxiety or past and future feels like being rocked in a cradle by the universe. We can add to the momentum until we make ourselves dizzy, or we can relax, let go and just dream.

   My wife’s family has been grappling with some reconnections, complicated evolutions, and delicate boundaries lately. It’s not often easy for me to know my place. But it’s summer so Amy and I, while still busy, have more time and energy than we’ve had in a while.

   - At least, that’s what I thought when she put up such little resistance to my father-in-law’s request to visit yesterday. It’s not that they don’t visit often, but her willingness to commit was unusual. And I’m in summer mode finally and all about putting up as little resistance as possible to life.

   I have been asking if there really is life after death. It hasn’t been a deep inquiry, just a ‘what’s next in the agenda’ kind of thing. See if you can follow what happened.

   Yesterday during the visit with my in-laws my father-in-law seemed brighter than usual; brave, and talkative. He - and I cannot stress this enough - very unusually started sharing some recent memories about is son, my brother-in-law’s, passing. That was when my mother-in-law told me about a dream she’d had of her estranged sister.  Apparently, she saw her sister standing with her husband in front of their old home welcoming my mother-in-law in. She described meeting her sister’s eyes in a way they hadn’t in years and how vivid the dream had seemed. It suddenly washed over me what it was time to do. I had been sitting on news of her sisters’ passing that I hadn’t time to figure out how to properly deliver. It has been years since they spoke, since they lost touch, and since my mother-in-law had started getting the inclination to go find both her sisters. The last time they had discussed this I’d begun looking into where they were and had found that they’d all passed away seemingly just after quarantine. Was this her sister’s way of reminding me and assuring me this would be a good time to let my mother-in-law know? I wasn’t sure, and was reluctant for a number of reasons, but, when the moment seemed light and right, I did. My mother-in-law took the news gently and seemed accepting of the message (which I believe has to do with how clear things look from that side). In the end, I’m glad it happened the way it did. Even with all the complication, it felt miraculously easy and carried so many other assurances with even if just for the fact that it all felt so meant to be.

   Last night, I had this dream. I was a child in a house I knew to be mine, but I sensed something in the attic. I was assured it was my imagination.
   Then I was older. I heard the noises again in the attic - there was a familiarity. I’d explored more of it and it seemed similar to a house my wife and I used to rent. My mother-in-law was there gazing up at the attic with a smile. I found a door to a hallway that seemed like an apartment we used to rent and it lead outside to a house I lived in as a teen (I was really undulating around my life!) I suddenly saw the people in the attic. They stood, but looked pale and dead. A man, a woman and a younger female child. I asked if they were dead and was told they weren’t, they’d just forgotten to breathe.
   I told them to. They did, and came crashing into my room above my bed where I still was with my mother-in-law, but there was no mess. I was my own age, not scared and almost amused when they all got up and gently left.

   Kinda fitting right?

   Guess I got my answer.