Haunted

It had been 18 months. The world had moved on. Life was engulfed by a pandemic; individual tragedies subsumed by a crisis. The searchlight of mortality shone brightly across the globe. Panning and searching. Finding so many.

Those late night visits had slowed to a trickle these days. There was a time when they were every night. Every night became an event. Bedtime would mean seeing shadows; silhouettes just being present. Reminding. Just there. Seemingly dancing at times or so it seemed.

Mental health is in vogue. It’s OK not to be OK. If someone asks how you are then feel free to tell them the truth. Except it’s a pleasantry. Asking how someone is equates to a chat about the weather. Just say everything’s fine and move on. There are people that will talk but you have to know who they are. They may be family, they might be friends. Some may listen. You gotta know when it’s OK to be not OK. With the right person. Really listening is harder than it sounds. Much harder.

The passageway between light and dark is narrow. It’s narrower than you imagine. It’s easy to drift into a reverie of just being no more; no longer. I can see the attraction. To get there, it may only take a few minutes. People do it. People do it every day. The blocker is often those around you. It’s not easy when you realise how you may hurt someone - devastate them. If there’s enough light in your life it may be enough. For now.   

I still try to work it out. I am sure there were many reasons. It’s just that when you settle on one, you think of another. And you close your eyes and you picture the scene. The loneliness and desolation. The hopelessness that must have taken over. A life of comedy turned to Greek tragedy. Those final seconds. Eyes closed and a leap into the dark. Forever.

It wasn’t always like this. There had been 51 years preceding. A life of misadventure and misdirection. Mainly wasted. Yes – a wasted opportunity. We had fallen out many years ago. Lamentable. The border between disparate lives can be wide. Responsibility for family can be ill defined.

But the visits are less. The shadows only taunt occasionally. Just now and again. There are nights when I can close my eyes and sleep without reprisal. Maybe the visits will stop altogether one day. I hope my brother finds peace. I hope he doesn’t begrudge my peace, in time.

Ghosts are real. They may not look like you imagine but everyone has them. Sooner or later they come for you. Look hard enough and long enough and at the right time and you will see them. Eventually. And you will need to decide whether to stay or go with them. It’s at that point you will look around. And if there’s enough light in your life you may stay. Stay in the light.