I have been drowning in ghosts for a year. Ghosts of beloved friends, ghosts of my own. Even ghosts to come (God, Dickens was a weirdo, but so smart.) My in-laws visited recently and I blurted out a gruesome ghost story over the sounds of “Purple Rain.” When you’re being actively haunted, clearly it’s hard to avoid mentioning the 20-year gone sudden death of an acquaintance’s father, and the sobbing of a socialist named Jackson. Especially if Prince is conjuring the memory. Gosh, that would be an amazing ghost in this house.
The real Ghost of our house has left. I’m not sure why she went away, even though I asked her to. I can see why she clung here, and I hope she liked the chocolate I set out as an offering. I am certain we would have been friendly, that I would have enjoyed her egg rolls, and that our names overlap for a reason.
Today is Hallotak napja—All Soul’s Day. A national holiday in Hungary, and many other places. You visit graves or loved ones, light candles. Cemeteries are just gorgeous on this day. I never asked my grandparents if they had these traditions in their family. And my ghost grandmother only visited that one time, in search of my grandfather (“He’s in California,” I shouted in the middle of the night, shaken out of a dead sleep.) My grandmother was once told by a psychic to leave a room, because she was not a believer. I don’t think she’ll be coming back for a consultation about Austro-Hungarian family traditions of yore. If only because she couldn’t let the psychic be right.
Today my dad is also having a procedure done on his heart. And because I’m not just a little sticious, but I’m superstitious, I didn’t travel to be with him. I didn’t want to bring my ghosts with me. And if I went, it would be A Thing, and we know it’s just a thing, and everything will be fine, as it always is.
Today I light a candle for those who have passed. And another for my dad, and my mom, and the surgical team. I haven’t yet chosen a sound track for the morning, but someone in my ghost posse texted me an album recommendation yesterday; he hasn’t steered me wrong once since our mixtape days. I am sure it will lift me up. Sending you that lift as well, my pretties.