Italo Calvino said: The more enlightened our houses are, the more their walls ooze ghosts.

Although, I do agree with this post, I feel that this relates to so much more than just “houses.”

This past weekend was an important anniversary for me.  It was the five-year mark of what I refer to as my Violation.  I have no intention of delving into the details in this post, perhaps at a later date.


I had the rare opportunity of going to traffic court today (sarcasm intended.)  While I was sitting there pondering the universe, waiting for what literally became hours, I began thinking about ghosts.  Primarily, about how they are so much more than just the figurative creatures of our imaginations, they are more than white figures that appear in the night, or black shadows hiding in our closets.

I believe ghosts are very real.

My ghosts lurk in the corner of every dark room.  I feel them  when I’m home alone, walking to my car in the dark, and until recently, every time I closed my eyes.

Ghosts, energies, feelings that never leave, in a choice of words, fear.  Fear of what was, or what has happened, the imprint that experiences and people have left on and within us.

My ghost, a man who took everything that was important at the young age of 17, never leaves.  The fear is never gone, the pain never goes away.  It lingers, like an odor.

As I sit here and contemplate my ghosts, I wonder how many deal with their own ghosts, but an even deeper question, am I someone else’s ghost?

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