I am a ghost

I am a ghost. My mother used to call me her star but she was wrong. I am a ghost, not a star. Sometimes other ghosts see me; sometimes people that aren’t ghosts see me. It’s not like this is startling news since ghosts have been around for a long time. They live on the fringe of society. They’re accepted into the popular culture because they’re presence, like mine at times, is seen but they are not considered a real part of the culture. That’s why I’m on the sidelines and not fully recognized by my neighbors. They know somebody lives there. Actually, if they listened to their neighbors they would know that this somebody, me, the ghost in question, has lived there for over twenty three years. And has lived there with another ghost the entire time. In fact, this ghost couple has been together nearly as long as the neighbors are alive on the planet. Ghosts like me have a very strange relationship to reality, in fact, to almost everything about a culture. For instance, we have to work and pay taxes and we do many of the same things our neighbors and the other non-ghosts do. But we’re not seen by everyone in the culture as being real. And our deaths are quieter and the support from the community when we’re having a tough time, sometimes going through the normal life stages, aren’t always supported either. That’s understandable. We are, after all, ghosts. It surprises some to know we go through normal life stages but frankly ghosts aren’t always original and have been known to mimic regular people. So we live and die, fall in love and want to share our lives with others; we lose our brothers and sisters to cancer and other sad deaths, and we also lose friends to death and the hazards of an uncertain economic time. Most people really don’t know about this side of ghosts. How can they be expected to? We’re barely visible and for the most part, despite some interactions we may have with the real world, we’re pretty quiet as a cultural group can be. What I find most odd about my people, other ghosts, is how we always seem to weave our lives into the real culture and yet we’re like invisible threads. Our place in business, community and other areas of society seem solid. That’s the strangest thing about this ghost life of mine. I can count on a lot of the obligations and tasks that real people have to do and go through but I can’t count on the same support system. If something happens to me or my ghost partner of 25 years, for instance, if one of us dies, I have to pay taxes on our property that we own together. You know, that’s just money and these days, who really cares about that? What I find so strange is that if my mother were alive today, she’d be so hurt to know that her star was a ghost and that this ghost would have to suffer the stigma of being an outcast, both economically and socially. Mothers are strange though too. I mean, as a group, they tend to care for their children and want them to do well, succeed in their goals and be safe and secure. My mother was so typical that way. I’m glad she’s not around to realize that even ghosts age and go through challenging life stages together. Now that me and my ghost partner are together for so long and facing some of the life stages and questions that gain in weight and importance as one ages – at least I don’t have to worry about my mother worrying about me. There, now that’s something ghosts have in common with their neighbors. I’m sure glad my young neighbors can be secure knowing their right to love and marry, and all the financial obligations and securities that goes along with their rights, are solid. Ghosts shouldn’t have to also worry about their neighbors. That just wouldn’t be fair.



Coda:
Movement is a key that unlocks stagnation.