This is beautiful. I grew up in rural England where ghost stories and sightings of ghosts were common place. But i was always scared. I wish I could’ve had that brave confidence you had when your mother talked about seeing them, how lovely. I love the idea of “haunted houses” being a gift & a way to connect with the past- I’ll lean into this next time I’m home, sleeping in the flat my parents bought that turns out to be an old haunted psychiatric hospital 👻
My college campus was a former psychiatric hospital! They used to train police dogs on the campus and there was a building where weird stuff happened (like students or employees being alone and finding themselves locked into rooms) that they couldn’t get the dogs to go into! 😱
My grandmother grew up on a farm in Ontario, the oldest of 9 children. She left at 18 and never looked back. When she heard that my husband and I brought a farm in upstate NY, the first word out of her mouth was , “why?”. Haha.
When we bought our house in Los Angeles, the seller asked if we would like to keep the books that occupied the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves on each landing of the staircase. Absolutely, yes. Many belonged to her late husband. They are sun-bleached and old (some are really really old) and I love looking through them for clues about the lives who came before us in this place, even if they are far from my own family roots. A type-written screenplay! An 89-year-old yearbook from Kansas City! Self-help books from the 1980s! Here for it.
We bought a 100 year old house last August, and when I joked with some of the neighbors that the previous (deceased) owner would be unhappy with us for remodeling the existing kitchen, they reassured us that Helen would be pleased, and if she was haunting the house, she would be a kind, gentle presence. I found this very reassuring (and am wondering if I felt her presence from the moment I walked into the house, because the house has such a good feeling).
Yes! I think about future generations in my space and like to think that if whoever is remodeling is doing it from a place of love for this house, it's fine by me.
My brother and I sold our childhood home in Los Angeles a year ago. The new owners have stripped it down to the studs, which makes us a feel a little bit sad… and even more sad that they’ll probably pull out the beloved fig and persimmon trees in the garden to make space for a swimming pool. But would I haunt the space? Probably not — but my father’s ghost might 😉
Holly, I am the sentimental sort as well. I attach meaning and spirituality to the rich awareness you described in that voicemail to your grandmother . I also resonate with the quote about seeing a tale of loss as a tale of change. This essay is a portrayal of what living that “tale of change” is like. I think your grandfather’s feelings about the farm you love so much illustrate the author’s point . It’s very good for me as I try to embrace similar changes in my life. Thanks for this beautiful tale. Charlie Greenman
As a tribe of two, we have lived in many apartments and houses. At Easter I went visiting in our first city slowly driving past our first house but too shy to knock on the door to ask to go in. Maybe I am the ghost? My family home is now an intergenerational household that holds the ghosts of my teenage self as well as conflicting emotions of my recently deceased dad for me. As always love your writing.
Wow! I love that quote at the end. This is something I’ve been thinking about a lot, and have started writing, how different people’s experiences in the same place tell completely different stories.
This really resonates with me—my own mother never spoke fondly of her childhood home, yet for me that house still holds the memory of my dear grandmother—squeezed together in her favorite arm chair, snuggled up to her bony frame eating Chicken-in-a-Biscuit crackers and poring over seed catalogs, while my grumpy grandfather slept. I’d love to own that house and it’s ghosts.
That’s the attitude I love to hear! After buying our first house in 1967 and found that the paper hung and signed the bare plaster wall in 1924, looked and listened for signs of ghosts but not a one came to visit. Many more things were found in the 3 attics but no ghosts.
This is beautiful. I grew up in rural England where ghost stories and sightings of ghosts were common place. But i was always scared. I wish I could’ve had that brave confidence you had when your mother talked about seeing them, how lovely. I love the idea of “haunted houses” being a gift & a way to connect with the past- I’ll lean into this next time I’m home, sleeping in the flat my parents bought that turns out to be an old haunted psychiatric hospital 👻
In that particular case, I think I'd take back everything I said. 😂
Haha!!! ❤️
My college campus was a former psychiatric hospital! They used to train police dogs on the campus and there was a building where weird stuff happened (like students or employees being alone and finding themselves locked into rooms) that they couldn’t get the dogs to go into! 😱
Dogs know things...
Whaaaaaat 😲
My grandmother grew up on a farm in Ontario, the oldest of 9 children. She left at 18 and never looked back. When she heard that my husband and I brought a farm in upstate NY, the first word out of her mouth was , “why?”. Haha.
Haha! "Fools!"
I love reading your work!
When we bought our house in Los Angeles, the seller asked if we would like to keep the books that occupied the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves on each landing of the staircase. Absolutely, yes. Many belonged to her late husband. They are sun-bleached and old (some are really really old) and I love looking through them for clues about the lives who came before us in this place, even if they are far from my own family roots. A type-written screenplay! An 89-year-old yearbook from Kansas City! Self-help books from the 1980s! Here for it.
Truly delightful, gosh.
We bought a 100 year old house last August, and when I joked with some of the neighbors that the previous (deceased) owner would be unhappy with us for remodeling the existing kitchen, they reassured us that Helen would be pleased, and if she was haunting the house, she would be a kind, gentle presence. I found this very reassuring (and am wondering if I felt her presence from the moment I walked into the house, because the house has such a good feeling).
Yes! I think about future generations in my space and like to think that if whoever is remodeling is doing it from a place of love for this house, it's fine by me.
My brother and I sold our childhood home in Los Angeles a year ago. The new owners have stripped it down to the studs, which makes us a feel a little bit sad… and even more sad that they’ll probably pull out the beloved fig and persimmon trees in the garden to make space for a swimming pool. But would I haunt the space? Probably not — but my father’s ghost might 😉
Holly, I am the sentimental sort as well. I attach meaning and spirituality to the rich awareness you described in that voicemail to your grandmother . I also resonate with the quote about seeing a tale of loss as a tale of change. This essay is a portrayal of what living that “tale of change” is like. I think your grandfather’s feelings about the farm you love so much illustrate the author’s point . It’s very good for me as I try to embrace similar changes in my life. Thanks for this beautiful tale. Charlie Greenman
Thanks for reading, Charlie!
I expect it’s a different experience when they’re “your” ghosts, beloved family members…verses strangers, with lives we know nothing about.
You are going to be the absolute best haint 👏👏
I really agree.
As a tribe of two, we have lived in many apartments and houses. At Easter I went visiting in our first city slowly driving past our first house but too shy to knock on the door to ask to go in. Maybe I am the ghost? My family home is now an intergenerational household that holds the ghosts of my teenage self as well as conflicting emotions of my recently deceased dad for me. As always love your writing.
Gosh I love this.
Wow! I love that quote at the end. This is something I’ve been thinking about a lot, and have started writing, how different people’s experiences in the same place tell completely different stories.
This really resonates with me—my own mother never spoke fondly of her childhood home, yet for me that house still holds the memory of my dear grandmother—squeezed together in her favorite arm chair, snuggled up to her bony frame eating Chicken-in-a-Biscuit crackers and poring over seed catalogs, while my grumpy grandfather slept. I’d love to own that house and it’s ghosts.
I associate Chicken-in-a-Biscuit crackers with my grandmother's house, too.
That’s the attitude I love to hear! After buying our first house in 1967 and found that the paper hung and signed the bare plaster wall in 1924, looked and listened for signs of ghosts but not a one came to visit. Many more things were found in the 3 attics but no ghosts.
"Our farm is an Eden to me, regardless of what came before." xoxoxoxo!!!
Back at you! ❤️
Love your last line!!! ❤️
I loved this.
Thank you,
This may well be your best story yet!🥰
loved this
❤️