Memories of loved ones long gone bring comfort rather than scares
Halloween is getting closer, and as it is the season of spirits and ghosts, I thought a ghost story would be appropriate.
This is not the spooky kind of ghost story, but more of a gentle tale with characters from my past.
As I will be turning 75 next year, I have been doing a lot of thinking about my past and the characters who made my life so rich and rewarding. They are mostly ghosts now, having left this mortal plain due to a variety of reasons — AIDS, accidents, congenital heart conditions and just old age.
One spirit recently visited me where I least expected it, the audio room at my church’s broadcast center. I was sitting next to my partner, Patrick, who runs the board for early Sunday services at Cathedral of Hope. As I watched him setting up, mixing the various instruments of the orchestra and setting mic levels, a ghost came to visit.
It was the spirit of my friend Mike, with whom I once owned a small recording studio. Mike was a cinematographer by trade, but he loved the science and art of audio. I was a camera operator by day but a musician by night. I had dreams of making music, and, since we owned a studio, it was not only a dream, but a reality. I played a variety of instruments and did vocals while Mike played drums and engineered the sessions.
Mike was also one of my first gay lovers — more accurately, he and his wife were. We had an enthusiastic threesome for several years, and I will always remember it fondly. Mike moved to San Francisco, and I lost touch with him. But I found his obituary on a random Internet search.
The ghostly visit wasn’t frightening. It was subtle. It was just a presence, and a warmth that I felt behind me as I watched my partner at the mixing console.
Patrick was fiddling with an input and getting only static and crackling. I heard Mike whisper in my ear, “It’s the power supply.” I repeated his words and, after checking, we found it was indeed a power supply issue.
Once it was fixed, the service went off without a hitch.
That’s the way my ghosts interact with me: not scary screams or nightmares, but simple, gentle and often assuring voices whispering in my ear. My ghostly friend Tony often gives me fashion advice. My spirit friend John Thomas spurs me on when I have lost my activist energy. My friendly ghost Bruce inspires puns when I write. My ectoplasmic favorite aunt Melissa keeps me gregarious and somewhat fabulous.
I suspect we all have ghostly visitors, even if we are not aware of them — voices and faces that affected our lives and pop up at the most unexpected moments. So in this season of goblins and spooks, I encourage you to welcome them in. Sit with them and have a cup of hot cider; share some Halloween candy and enjoy their company even if they are only memories.
Happy Halloween!