Tuesday, October 3

Healing Stories: Ghosts of the Past – Uplifers


When I think about my childhood, only one scene comes to mind in the first place. In the afternoon, after school, in my corner of the living room next to the heater, the sun is pouring like a golden river, and I see myself dozing on the green couch while my grandmother naps in my checkered notebook and draws her own Casper adventures.

I loved Kasper because he was lonely, just like me. Casper was a sweet, harmless ghost who wanted to be loved, and I desperately wanted to be friends with him. All I could do in response was to fill my notebook with the stories I came up with for him. Writing and drawing Casper stories has helped me heal my wounds.

My love for ghosts continued when I became a writer. Gothic stories, children’s ghost stories, ghost cartoons, comics… It was as if Casper was still present in everything I created, wrote and drew. I don’t know, maybe it’s true that all authors actually tell the same story in every book.

But, as they say, life itself ultimately imitates art. On this quiet Sunday afternoon, when time seems to have stopped, I realize with joy and sadness that everyone I once loved and lost is still with me.

Yes, it’s just like those golden afternoons of my childhood, it’s a strange, sweet time. There is no time, no air, nothing that surrounds me. I’m sitting on the couch, silently folding my laundry. Then, with a slight shiver, I feel the ghosts of my past beside me.

Here they are, sitting next to me again and watching me with interest. I feel your invisible eyes on me. “Why don’t you let us go?“, they ask me. “Why do you insist on holding on to us? There’s nothing we can do for you, don’t you understand?

I smile to myself as tears flow from my eyes. I feel free and alone at the same time. Maybe freedom always brings a bit of loneliness with it, I don’t know… All I know is that I’ve been living with ghosts for a long time. And on this boring Sunday with things to do, I’m ready to send them right now.

Well!I say softly, putting the laundry basket aside. “I’ll let you go. But not right away. I only want one thing from you. That you stay with me tonight… That’s all you can do, right?

I feel the ghosts tremble with joy. I take out the records and put them on the floor, on the carpet. I want to listen to the albums that we listened to together again. I put on a David Bowie record. And as I dance with my favorite ghosts, I wonder if Bowie is now a ghost too.

We play records together. We dance, turning on the music until the end. Everyone who once made my life beautiful and who I thought would never give up on me is now with me in my living room. And I’m curious; Is it because I love them so much, or because I think I can’t do without them? Or… Or was I just afraid to be alone?

We listen to Bowie. We play the music of Lou Reed, Leonard Cohen and all the other ghosts all night long. And when it’s already midnight, I suddenly realize what I have to do. I turn off the music, close my eyes, smile happily andThank you for everything.“I whisper. And when I open my eyes, I understand that they are gone.

Soon, as I put the records back in place, deep space surrounds me. And I’m starting to think of all the wonderful things that I could use to fill this huge void left by my ghosts.

I can learn Japanese.“, I say to myself. “BI can enroll in a ceramics course. I can travel…Then I happily hug myself:Now that they’re gone, I can spend more time with myself.”

Sweet weariness overwhelms me. After all, giving up on someone is exhausting, even if it’s a ghost. I lie down on the sofa among the laid out linen. I think about Casper. “You’re not alone…I whisper to him. Then I slowly close my eyes, breathing in the smell of freshly laundered laundry.

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