There’s not enough sage in the world to get rid of the ghost that haunts my home.
In the past, I’ve cleansed all the entryways, spraying them with a witchy formula my west coast friend prepared by mixing water from the low tide of the Pacific Ocean and adding purified herbs and incantations into a spray bottle.
My doorways defend my home from unwanted guests with trinkets and talismans, runes and charms. But these sounds, these screeches of pots banging and water running, they equally make my skin crawl as they ease my tension away. It’s as if my ghost is a household item, or maybe a redheaded stepchild sprung from an ancestral tree that unknowingly seeded the soil.
You don’t understand. It’s not an angry or scary entity. It feels like the mythological creatures I write about—maybe it’s a goblin. One of those little cute hairless monsters that protect the household from intruders, but also makes fluffy pancakes.
Yes, that must be it!
Or is it?
For the past week, typical household sounds linger in the air and waft from room to room. The shower turns on by itself at 6:50am, almost on queue. The blow dryer turns on around 7:15am and the door across the hall clicks quietly closed before 7:30am. This occurs every weekday.
Then, later in the day while I sit in my office, mysteriously, the kitchen faucet will turn on. I’m afraid to look, but the ghost or goblin or great-great-great aunt Rose, starts cleaning my breakfast pans. The dishwasher opens and closes. I know, because I still haven’t tightened that bolt I was supposed to do a month ago. A month ago, I had no ghost cleaning up after me.
A month ago, I was alone, still talking wildly to myself and my dog. We used to have the best conversations. Now, my dog lies in another office, under a different office chair. And in the past week, the ghost keeps yelling my name from the other side of the house…Damn it, Rebecca. Quit leaving your shoes in the middle of the room.
That’s love reunited. That’s my beloved finally home after a hundred and twenty days. This is how it is supposed to be.