Spirits good and evil

 The spirits of those trying to find their way have found me and my old trailer. I guess you could say I'm a borderline hoarder, someone who's always been a collector of the strange, the old, and the vessels for lost souls. Some of my items belonged to the spirits who wanted to reconnect with them to feel a sense of when they were alive. So, they visit me in the darkness, some playful and others as serious as it can be. I've been awakened by black floating sheets with no faces, just eyes staring into my soul. They often came within inches of my face, leaving me to wave my arms frantically and try fending them off, then realize I was awake.

What I call the white spirits appear both day and night, usually playful, as they race through my trailer, omitting very soft sounds like a language of their own that I can sometimes understand if only a few words like Its ok, or No fears but always just a couple of words. The one that said my name and then the word Mother, well, that shivered me timbers.

People have asked me if I was afraid of the spirits passing through my trailer, and I said I was not. They are just lost in a world they don't belong to anymore, trying desperately to find their way. My trailer became a stopping place for them to reconnect with an object or a picture, and who knows what else is bringing them back to the life they once lived, if only for a brief moment. I believe the dark spirits don't want me here among their things and try to scare me to get out, but I am not going anywhere. I am the caretaker of the old, the antiques, the strange, and more. And I don't take my job lightly. Bring it, night stalker.

Mike 2924

Young Love

 I'll think of you when I remember my youth and the things I'll always cherish. We held hands as we window-shopped, dreaming of someday having that red couch you would stare at until I squeezed your hand gently, and we moved on. I stopped at another store where hardware of all kinds lined the walls, but only one thing caught my eye, and I froze in place, staring. A John Deer lawn tractor with all the attachments, That yellow and green, a symbol of quality and long life. We laughed as we walked to the next window—a glass showroom where six new cars and trucks shined like a new coin. I want the red one, you said, to match my couch. I chose the green pickup truck. After all, every farm needs a truck that matches the tractor.

We continued our window shopping and came to the only place we could actually buy something: ice cream. I loved the smell of an ice cream parlor: the stainless-steel coolers and the sweetness of dozens of toppings. In a glass case were homemade chocolates of every kind. Trays of them in assorted goodness. Peanut clusters, cherry-filled chocolates, solid squares of solid chocolate, and so many more. The endless sound of mixers making malts and shakes filled the air as the laughter and excitement of children pointed to the flavor they wanted in a sugar cone. We pooled our coins and ordered a chocolate shake with two straws. We left the parlor and entered the darkness as stores began closing for the night. We strolled, holding hands, until we reached her house, where I saw her father through the window reading the newspaper or at least pretending he was. I saw her mom peering out of the curtains, quickly ducking back so she wouldn't be seen. There is a lot to say about first dates and first loves. And having the gift of memory keeps those times alive and ready to be remembered and lived again.

Mike 2024

When she left him

 When she left him, he smiled for the last time. He kept those smiles close to his heart, where only he could see them. 

When she left him, he cried his last tear. He kept that tear close to his heart where only he could see it.

When she left him, a piece of him left, too, and his life would never be the same. Late at night, when the darkness was upon him, he thought of her, and his smiles turned to tears, and only she could see them.

Mike 2024

Truth be told

 He'd had enough of mainstream America, the countless herds of people jockeying their way through the crowds to arrive with minutes to spare at a job he hated. There were a few smiles on the streets, and all eyes looked away, not wanting a confrontation this early in the morning. He wasted precious time communing outside the city on two buses and a subway ride from hell. Punks who should be in school roam from car to car, taunting everyone just trying to get to work. He tried to intervene one time, but a knife was no match for his empty hands. The tip of the blade penetrated his shirt, leaving a blood stain as a kind soul reached into her purse and came to him with a small first aid box, which she used to patch him up for the time being.

The office where he had worked for eighteen years had left a scar on his soul. The sounds of computer keyboards clicking away like a beat for a lousy song, endless pots of coffee always brewing and tasting like dishwater, stale donuts, and rotting food in the breakroom fridge. Lunch enabled him to go outside to sit on a bench covered with graffiti, mainly gang tags and words that should never be written except at the gates of hell. A thousand cigarettes were snuffed out by workers late for returning to their jobs.

The rides home on buses and trains were a blur of colored graffiti on any structure not yet tagged. Empty trash cans remained empty, as it was easier to just drop your garbage wherever you wanted to. He was grateful he got home just before the darkness of night brought out the worst of the worst. Robbery, rape, assault, they all came out at night scoring drugs of choice, vomiting in any alley dark enough where remnants of used needles and homemade pipes scattered around the filth of what was once a beautiful city.

Life is about change, and most change is good. At least, that's how I like to remember it as I hide my face in a newspaper I've already read twice.

Mike 2024

Autumn

 I smelled the wood shop on a cold winter's day. Just off in the distance, I heard the tap-tap-tap of a blacksmith's hammer as he forged new life into a piece of steel. Life in the country was all I ever wanted, even though the days were filled with work that stretched into darkness.

 I never grew tired of sitting on the porch as stories were told and the sounds of laughter filled the air. The smell of a Sunday dinner, a gift given to say thank you for all we have, a grandkid sitting on my knee, another playing marbles in the dirt, biding his time before the screen door opened and Grandma yelled at him to get cleaned up for dinner.

Every season had meaning and gave me reasons to love each one. My favorite was Autumn, when the colors were at their peak, and the smell of pumpkin pies cooling on the window ledge filled me with a sense of happiness I couldn't describe.

Apple cider, roasted chestnuts, Pecan pie, and a rocking chair were all I needed to be happy. Family and friends gathered to share a meal; little ones chased a chicken, the smell of burning leaves, and a chill in the air. All the things I love are alive in my memories of Autumn.

Mike 2024

No regrets, just memories

 He had given up most of his possessions, telling himself he'd looked long enough at knickknacks and junkyard stuff that took up space. He took his time going through things and saying goodbye if it didn't make him smile or shed a tear. He had stopped going to yard sales and thrift stores a while back; he didn't need more of other people's memories and forgotten history. He kept all the precious items his kids and grandkids made for him over the years, each holding a special place on the old shelves he found at someone's curb, waiting to be crushed and dumped at the landfill.

Yellow squares stood out on the walls as pictures he cherished were taken down and neatly packed away to be seen another day or not. His grandparents' house was handed down to his parents and then to him, where he raised a family. He took down his big brother's Army picture; he seemed so young and proud. A tear dropped onto the dusty picture of his wedding day and the promise of a long and happy life with the girl of his dreams standing beside him for over sixty years. Photos of the first Little League games and graduation days. Dance recitals and family picnics all lined the walls of a happy home.

The boxes are packed, waiting for the moving truck to arrive. He had one last chance to sit in the rocking chair he made with his son for the school wood shop class, remembering a lifetime that sped past him that he never thought would end up with him going to a place where others like himself went to get even older but never a burden. His house was empty now. No new memories, just ones he struggled to keep. No regrets, he told himself as the old rocking chair was loaded onto the truck, and he took one last look at everything that meant anything to him. He wiped away the tears as he stood in front of the house his grandparents built, wondering how long it would be before he was reunited with those he loved. Soon enough, he told himself as the taxi pulled up, and he cried unashamed, waving goodbye to a well-lived life.

Mike   2024

Comes with age

 As I grow older, I realize what people tell me is coming true. I would have never thought someday I'd have to be careful when I tried to pick up something I dropped on the floor, and I admit I thought about leaving it there until the dog found it. I seldom worried about slipping in the shower until I did and made an Olympic reach to the safety of the shower bar, which, by the way, was in the house when I bought it. I would have called you crazy when you warned me about going outside alone and getting lost briefly, leaving me laughing instead of crying. I never guessed I'd have a pill for every little thing wrong with me. Or, instead of lifting weights, I'd have a yoga mat to stretch myself out. I never wanted to think so far ahead of my life when my children and grandchildren all left at some point, seeking their callings and reaching out to me once a week to see if I was still breathing. Don't get me wrong; I am happy for every one of them as they have prospered and are living good lives. I'm in a stage of my life where my memories are alive and well but with momentary lapses that leave me sad, knowing they will vanish forever one day. Yes, getting older is full of surprises, some good, others not so much, but one thing for sure, I wouldn't change a thing, at least those things I remember.

Mike 2024