GHOSTS VS LIARS

GHOSTS VS LIARS

Who do you prefer?

BOO!

GHOST is a poem written by Rose Marie Roy and also my inspiration for this story.

Boo (Hoo)

Let’s first talk about liars.

LIAR # 1: I’d been married not quite two yeas when I learned of my husband’s infidelity. You could have knocked me over with a feather! Less than two years and one baby later, he decided he needed “more fun”, to be with someone who didn’t remind him he was old enough to be a dad. Wait, he was NEVER a dad! But he was the bio-father.

No, I didn’t toss his sorry butt out. Probably should have but the day I found out about Sue was the same day I found out about baby #2. Yep, I was four months pregnant. Liar had to stay.

Was he working overtime? Nope. He was with Sue. Where did my small saucepan go? I knew I’d washed it. He’d given it to Sue to help set up her apartment.

His lies went on and on until my older son turned ten years old. He felt the boys were old enough to not need a “dad”. As I said, he was never a DAD. It was a warm summer day when he left for good.

LIAR # 2: I’d already been divorced three years when I met Johnny, who was still single. I placed my sons in Cub Scouts hoping they might be a “male” influence to guide them. Johnny seemed to fit perfectly. He enjoyed being in the company of my sons and they enjoyed being with him.

One year later, he began talking about marriage. I thought about it, a bit hesitant since my “first” was still a somewhat bitter taste in my mouth.

A year later, Johnny convinced me it was the right thing to do. I said yes and he bought me a ring.

Six months later, he decided he liked Karen better. Why? I’ll never know since they moved in together and we never spoke again. My sons weren’t the only ones devastated.

LIAR # 3: I applied for a receptionist position and immediately informed the potential employer that I had no legal experience, but I would have no trouble manning the front desk. He said not to worry. He’d send me to classes where I could learn the ins and outs of being a “Legal Secretary” Although being a Legal Secretary isn’t the job I was seeking, I was hired.

Eight months later, he fired me because I didn’t know enough about working in a law office.

I guess I could go on, but this is the general idea of my life with liars since my twentieth year on this earth.

I think we can now safely move on to the topic of ghosts!

My grandmother often told my mother, when I wasn’t quite ten years old, that there was something just not right about me. While I never understood what she meant, by the time I turned twelve years old, I knew I was different. I’d see things that no one else saw. I knew things that I had no way of knowing.

For instance, my shadowy friend rarely left my side. My mom often heard me speaking to someone she couldn’t see.

When I was only six, I told my grandmother that my mom and I took a trip (from NY) to England. She asked why and looking her directly in the eye, I answered, “Why, Nana, to see the Coronation of Queen Elizabeth!” This was in 1953 and there was absolutely no way my mom and I could get to and from England in less than twenty-four hours. Yet, I was adamant that we did. I knew where we stayed and with whom. My grandmother was aghast! I knew more about her cousin’s house than I have. My “friend” had informed about all of this.

Years later, my grandmother and I took a bus ride. I had my grandmother on one side and my “friend” on the other. Looking at my grandmother, I said, “Nana, you have . . art, arth, some kind of itis”.

She quizzed me more and I told her the doctor’s office would be dark, but a wall would open with a “big bright light” behind it. I told her I was a strip of orange around the wall.

Although she listened, I could see the amusement in her eyes.

That is, until we arrived at the doctor’s office.

The walls were dark paneled. The door to his examination room was a sliding door, and he diagnosed my grandmother with severe arthritis in both knees. And yes, the orange strip was a row of orange seats built into the wall.

How did I know all of that? My “friend” told me.

Throughout the years, I still see my shadows. They still tell me things that I otherwise should not know.

Now and again, when I accomplish something difficult, I feel what seems to be a “well done” tap on my shoulder.

My ghosts have, on occasion, moved things, which I’m assuming is for their own amusement, and to always let me know, they’re not malicious. They’ve never hurt me and have given me the impression that they might be lonely and just want to play every once in a while.

So, yeah, when it comes to Liars vs. Ghosts, I’ll take the Ghosts every time.

It sure is better than being lied to.

I’m including a link to Rose Marie’s poem.

Thank you for reading my tale and her poem.

A GHOST | Poets (vocal.media) by Rose Marie Roy