We have some really nice postmen who work our mail route. Even down to our third reserve postie who is equally nice and conscientious. So rather than just post an unusual letter he knocked at the door.

“Sorry to bother you but I don’t recognise the name on this letter addressed to you”

After a quick scan I confirmed the letter was correctly addressed to us. You see this postie only occasionally covers our village and probably only for the last couple of years. He has no idea, nor should he. We often think the world stops when someone dies and grief hits. But you quickly realise that the wider world keeps spinning. Only you and maybe a handful of others experience a shuddering world halt. When finally your world does starts spinning again there is no guarantee that it will get back up to the speed of the wider world. Until the speeds harmonise you feel out of synch. Not quite part of this world anymore. For me everything seems to happen in slow motion while outside of my bubble the world flies by. Sometimes I drift into social settings and no one seems to see me. They certainly don’t see the grief baggage that I am am shouldering. My chains. When I do reach out to make contact with the outside world again I often fail. As if I just can’t grasp it anymore. Part of the world yet removed from it. Maybe this is what a ghost feels like.

So when a letter arrives addressed to my partner and only two people blink. An efficient but blissfully unaware postman and me. You realise then that grief is deeply personal. Incredibly localised. All this from one of those letters. A random invite to a furniture sale. A mass produced advert. But the computer generated name on the front of the envelope changes everything. It reminds me of what I have become. Someone going through a process. Transitioning. Currently in the ghost stage.

47 thoughts on “Ghost letters

  1. Not a very nice shock to the system☹
    You’re in ghost mode, I’m in zombie mode due to a 1:00am bounce😫
    It’s my fault that I didnt go to sleep until midnight. Thank goodness the glorious little yellow school bus arrives at 7:30… only 5 hours to go😭

    Life… it’s a trip!

    Liked by 2 people

  2. It’s a hit alright, those unsuspecting queries pertaining to the one we have lost. For many years, I used to fear and dread them. I don’t anymore, but when someone who doesn’t know asks, I clench up and can never seem to settle into any answer.

    Liked by 2 people

  3. Oh dear, that must have been shocking to you. My grandfather (Pa) died nearly 10 years ago now, sometimes I still smell his smell, and it does just take you out of it for a bit. Oh my goodness, what happened to Canada while I was asleep?!

    Liked by 1 person

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