Ok, so the Mexicans see ghosts.
Or well, my Dad is ghost form. Now when they told me these stories, this had me thinking a couple things:
1. What the hell Ghost-Dad, why didn’t you come visit me?
2. There has to be a rational explanation …
3. What if ghosts are real? Eeek!
4. My Dad wouldn’t be a ghost. He’d be a spirit or something, or an angel I guess? He never looked good in a white nightgown anyway.
5. Just thinking about ghosts makes me so scared to even look around the room as I type this. I have to save this draft and come back to it, because I am freaking myself out …
Ok, I’m back. So here is what they experienced, these Mexicans of ours …
1. My cousin’s husband gets in his truck to warm it up. Suddenly, out of nowhere, the volume turns up to MAX.
2. My aunt feels chills and sees my cousins one year old pointing oddly at nothing. He’s jabbering to himself, pointing. He walks away, still pointing at nothing, and walks into a room where the rest of the family is sitting.
3. A semi-truck passes my family’s vehicle. My cousin SEES MY DAD driving this semi-truck. He’s waving and smiling at her.
4. My brother’s dog won’t stop barking the day the Mexicans return from staying with my cousin in the Kootneys, and the day of the catholic mass funeral thing.
5. My other cousin’s 1.5 year old daughter, sees me crying at the catholic mass funeral thing. She comes and sits with me, and pats my leg. My aunt immediately says my Dad’s spirit has taken her to comfort me. Say what!!!!!
So now I think to myself …
1. My Dad never liked loud music. Why would he turn it up all the way? He would hate that.
2. The baby thing is freaky. I don’t have an explanation, other than maybe he’s deranged?
3. Seriously, who is driving that truck? My Dad is in a pretty urn in my living room. So …
4. This is also weird. She did this only on this one day.
5. Uhh … kids be cute and able to sense when others need comfort … right?
Well, I’m not more clear about the existence of spirits. If anything, I’ve had more nightmares and awoken in a sweat several times thinking my Dad is hovering around me, which I don’t appreciate and don’t think my Dad would ever do because he knew I hated scary things. But … the day my Dad died I swear I saw a figure standing in the reflective mirror at the hospital; then again I had only slept for 2 hours in 3 days and my eyes were essentially molten tears … surely, that is why …