I often think about my paternal grandmother
Who died when I was nine.
Inconsolable, I was, and yet the level of
Intimacy with my parents during the
Grieving process remains one of the
Closest times I've had with them.Whenever I was sad or felt lonely
When we visited their apartment on Broadway
With all the lights and tiny people
And traffic and amazing slice of boiling
Life from even the smallest bathroom window... My grandmother would bring me a little bag full of
Swatches of the most soothing fabrics
Silk, suede, satin, etc. so I could just rub
The sadness of childhood away.I held on to that bag for so long;
I may still have it in my Seattle storage.Here's where the ghost part comes in...
I've always loved stories and movies about ghosts.
Their ethereal nature; their retention of gifts and wisdom.
In my favorite ones, anyway. One night, my father asked me if I would be scared
If my beloved grandmother - his mother - floated
Through the door right then.
And I had to admit that I probably would be.So I practiced not being scared of that exact
Scenario, here and there, over these many years.
And, somehow, this ties in with a beloved movie:
"The Ghost and Mrs. Muir."Only watch the video clip if you want to be spoiled...
As it pretty much shows random bits of the entire plot.
Or if you love the movie too.
It's quite a sweet blend of a lifelong haunting
With a well-chosen song; put together by marxfan8
Below the clip are some of that person's notes...
'"Edge of the Ocean" by Ivy has recently become one of my favorite songs. I just had to make a video with it somehow, and, for whatever reason, I chose "The Ghost and Mrs. Muir". '