98. Wave From The Grave?
When I was a child visiting my grandma’s house (my mother’s mom), I’d wave next door to her neighbor Ken, who always sat in the bay window looking out at the sea. My grandma and Ken both lived right on the coast of the North Sea in Hartlepool (UK). We’d never really talk, but we always shared a little wave each day before I went to get into the car.
One time I’m leaving my gran’s house, I’m in front of my mom who’s stopped at the door to talk to my gran. So I head down the steps and towards the gate. I turn back and see Ken in the window. He had a big smile, as usual, waving at me. I give him a wave back. He stands up, gives me the thumbs-up, and wanders towards the back of the room.
My mom comes walking down the steps and asks, “Who are you waving at?” I replied, “Ken”. To this day, I can remember my mom’s face. She just went white but didn’t say anything to me. A few weeks later, she plucked up the courage to tell me that Ken had passed a few days before we visited my gran’s. I don’t believe in ghosts, but I know I saw him.
I can still picture his striped grey sweater with light stripes across it. Him waving and getting up out of his chair. There was no one else in the house. He lived by himself. Brains are weird.