Fantasy Island

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Whoa!.”

I’m not much for believing in religion.  The idea of spirits floating around us used to be something I would listen to others describe, but inwardly cringe about hoping they wouldn’t ask me.  Two events have made me think twice about that steadfast notion.  One of which still makes me at times doubt my belief, the other just something that I hope I am completely proven wrong about sometime in the future.

Years ago I lived in Boca Raton, Florida.  For those who think it is a great place to retire, maybe?  But when you are 25 years old and looking to teach, it’s was a complete culture shock from having grown up where there are actual seasons not just variations on humidity.  The flu was being passed around the building by the staff and students alike.  Fortunately I had some sick time to take, I didn’t spend the entire time coughing between teaching students how to graph a cost curve.

One of those nights, the fever was pretty bad.  The shaking, the crawling up the stairs to the bedroom when I probably should have just stayed on the couch.  Sweating out more water than I did when running in the August heat.  I remember the dream in fragments.  It was more a nightmare, but I could swear someone had grabbed a hold of my foot and shaken it until I opened my eyes.  It completely freaked me out and in some respects still does.  I lived alone, there was no animal jumping up and down hoping for attention; just me and the flu bug.  But at the same time I felt completely safe.  It wasn’t some worry about another person in the house, just curiosity about who woke me up.  Maybe my foot hit hit the edge of the bed, simple enough.  But maybe there was something more to it?

I’ve held onto the theory it was the spirit/ghost of a friend who was watching over me.  It hadn’t been the first time she had entered my dream state, but the first time we “interacted” in any way.

The second is something more recent.  A fellow traveler in this journey dealing with grief told me she had hopes that her daughter was holding mine, waiting for either of us to eventually join them.  It came on a day when I needed to hear something like that.  It just showed up in my email.

I know I believe in the idea that people carry on through memories shared, but I have a part of me that hopes they carry on in some other way as well.


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