*I dedicate this post to the memory and the legacy of my dad, Robert Barnett, Jr. who taught me the value of a good laugh. I think he might’ve liked this one*
Warning this is a long one, so get your water or tea or whatever you are sipping on these days and enjoy…
February 17, 2022…. A day that for me will be among the most influential days of my life. And it was all because of a ghost.
Before I begin my tale, I need to take you back just a bit to the fall of the year of our Lord Two Thousand and Twenty One. It was a most stressful time. A time of loss and a time of change. We were on our way to a new home in a new state and had no idea what to expect. The move itself was difficult as would the adjustment and the settling into place be. And my anxiety did not like what was happening around me. Not one bit.
I’d like to say that I was resilient as the Army had taught our family to be in times like this. That through all the turmoil I stood tall and did what I had to do to make it through. While I did do what I had to do, I didn’t do some of the things I liked to do. The very things that brought me joy. I withdrew from family and friends, kept away from social media, stopped working out as much, and perhaps the most heinous sin of them all…I stopped reading. I stopped writing.
It wasn’t for lack of having anything to say. I had loads of stuff to say. Everything that was happening around me… why I had stories upon stories for days. But this funny thing happens with anxiety… you lose interest. You feel overwhelmed and under this imaginary pressure that no one has put on you but you. And that’s exactly what happened. I couldn’t make heads or tails of anything and I became a shadow of my former self, just going along with the new routine. Routines are safe.
But then things became boring. It was the same every single day. And while there some things here and there to break up the monotony, it was pretty much stagnant. As is typical with anxiety, you tend to withdraw from the things you enjoy doing. But interestingly enough, I was lured by a variety of new and new to me television shows, mostly comedies. I decided to use TV as a way of coping I guess through the stress of everyday life. To perhaps avoid any frustrations that might come with the day’s work as a disability advocate or in to promote relaxation after living the #Outnumbered #MomLife. I watched these shows and laughed. I enjoyed seeing the different stories come to life and in the moment, everything was easy.
I still wasn’t writing and so I wasn’t truly fulfilled. Everytime I’d lay in my bed and look down at my Chromebook or my other various notebooks that are usually strewn about the house, I’d get overwhelmed again. I’d think “Gosh, I really should be writing right now. I need to be using my time wisely. Can I really continue to call myself a writer if I haven’t written anything in so long?” I believed the longer I stayed away from the pen, the harder it would be to get started. And I somehow always found an excuse to put it off for yet another day.
But alas, this post isn’t about my anxiety and the whosits and whatsits of the current state of my mental health. I will address the imposter syndrome in my next post. This one’s a happy tale.
Our story begins at the turn of the new year and football was at the climax of its season. The best of the best (I guess) in all of the National Football League were battling it out for ultimate supremacy and domination over the entire football world. And being that my husband lives for the drama, he was fully tuned in. FOX and CBS are staples in our home during Sunday autumn afternoons. As is customary during these courageous competitions of manliness, there are also promotions for the other form of entertainment these networks offer… the sitcom.
Ah yes, your weekly 30 minute, that’s really 22 minutes whilst streaming on Hulu and free of commercials, sitcom is always there to make you laugh your cares away. The all too familiar character tropes, the serious storylines that are cushioned by humor to remind you that you can still laugh in while dealing with the most serious of situations, the silly shenanigans that the characters always seem to get into every episode. They still exist! And while laugh tracks seem to be a thing of the past these days, you could always end your busy day on a high note with a good old sitcom. But I digress.
*Fair warning I might do that a lot in this essay. You’ve been warned.*
So back to the football game. I was busy getting dinner ready for the family on what always ends up being a busy Sunday evening, when I caught a glimpse of something that instantly piqued my interest. There, on our modest 55 inch screen, was a group of people in various costumes that alluded to the fact they probably lived during various parts of history. Well that or this was a show about the greatest Halloween party ever! Maybe it was a grown up version of Halloweentown? #ThrowItBack. #OriginalDisneyChannelmMoviesWereMyShit. #GrandmaAggieForLyfe. #OGHogwarts. Oh one could only hope. Anyway as I was saying, in the corner of my deep browns, I saw a dude who looked like Hamilton, a woman who looked like she might’ve been in the cast of Harlem Nights, and even this Not Another Teenage Movie looking bro with business up top and party down bottom (he ain’t got no pants on, y’all! He’s just walking around, free as a bird). So I was like “hmmm okay… I do like history and this seems like a fun time to be had by all.” Besides, I needed to know why this dude wasn’t in pants? Like bruh, what’s the story there? Let me go ahead and find some time in my schej to check it out. We sat down to enjoy a glorious Sunday evening spread. Let’s see… there were perfectly grilled steaks complete with the oh so satisfying grill marks, steaming fully-loaded baked potatoes, a big fresh salad, warm rolls… and it was delicious. Or at least I think it was… I honestly don’t remember what we had for dinner to be honest. Mom brain is real, ya’ll. What I do remember is sitting down with my family and after praying I did what all good parents do at the dinner table… I took out my phone to Google the fuck out of this show. What was Hamilton doing on TV? Were we about to get a Broadway spin-off made for TV (and was Daveed gonna be there)? Was this woman a jazz singer, and did she know Duke? Where was this dude’s damn pants? I had questions dammit, and I thought “dinner can wait… Lily Motherfuckin Rush never slept on a cold case and neither would I.” I longed to be as dedicated to finding out the truth just like my second favorite TV detective, next to Olivia Benson. #BenslerIsEndgame.
So here I am, allowing my food to get cold like a dumb dumb scrolling through the CBS webpage to see if I can find anything that looked remotely similar to what I had seen on TV. And after a few seconds of perusing, there it was, a picture with two twenty or thirty somethings sitting on an old dusty ass couch with the eclectically framed pictures of various people hung haphazardly behind them. These figures appeared to be staring at them, as though they were alive or something. And to round out the entire picture was the word “Ghosts” in bold yellow print.
Now if you would’ve asked me about ten years ago if I would’ve been interested in something like this, I probably would’ve Randy Jackson’d you with a “it’s a no for me, dog.” But thanks to my Harry Potter and all things witchy and supernatural, Marvel and mutants obsessed nerdy ass, I knew this was something I’d have to check out. Besides, there was a dude who looked like Hamilton… and me and Alex go way back like four flats on a Cadillac. So I made Sunday night date plans with my bed, pillows, Grogu, and my trusty HDTV to discover what this Ghosts foolery was all about. I had questions that needed answers and it was time to get my Lily Rush/ Olivia Benson on. I knew those pants suits would come in handy one day!
If you are still here, bless you! The point of it all is coming I promise.
So after dinner was eaten, the plates and cups all washed and put away, the floors swept and mopped and the youngins all cozy and snug in their beds, it was time for Momma to dive into this show of the supernatural. At first I tried streaming on Hulu but after finding out that Hulu wasn’t going to let me live my best commercial free life, and that I would have to watch it with live tv (a service that costs extra… like really Hulu, we already pay whatever the husbster pays every month so I don’t have to end a show with about five new diagnoses and wondering if my lack of sleep and my occasional sadness means that I may have type 2 diabetes, #ThoseMedicationCommercialsTho). I settled for watching all the previous episodes on YouTube TV. I still had to watch those damn commercials and now I’m thinking that I may need to change my current once a week date morning with my therapist to two a week. So once I was all comfy and cozy in my pj bottoms and my bottomless bowl of popcorn, I tuned in and not to my surprise, I really enjoyed the show. The characters, the banter, the stories… they were all so very lovely. And because I have to spoil everything, I decided to wiki the fuck out of the characters which only gave a homegirl even more questions liiiiiiiiike…..
When we gonna see Susan aka “The Flower” Montero handle the rock like AI, tho? I need to see her handles, her defensive, her killer mid-range jump shot from the corner… Like I know she can’t pick up a basketball cuz of #GhostLaw but seriously I wanna see more of Susan reaching and teaching! #GirlsBallToo. #RunHerThemJs. (Okay so I didn’t actually learn this until this most recent episode, but I wrote this after I watched it. I know this is not in order… don’t worry about it.)
Why is Pete, #ArrowBae (yes that’s my nickname for Pete because that’s my boo and every boo needs a nickname) still so clean? He probably bled out since an arrow through the neck would sever the carotid artery and jugular vein and neither his neck nor his glasses show no signs of trauma. I mean those glasses are superhero glasses… they are clean and perfectly frame his face without a bend in sight or a crack in the glass to be seen… I mean my sunglasses fall off my head on an regular ass basis and them lenses stay popping the fuck out the frame. The science behind those glasses needs to be studied. If the Army issued my husband those glasses from the jump, he wouldn’t be constantly hoarding unnecessary amounts of spectacles. It would be one and done for that guy. And also if he hit the ground as hard as he did, wouldn’t there be some dirt or grass stains somewhere on his uniform? Or do ghosts have the ability to do laundry now?
Why did American Downton Abbey, aka Henrietta hate the Irish so damn much and exactly how much coke was she doing in a day? I mean she talks about Cocaine like its water, as if it were part of her daily regimen. My girl was up here eat, sleep, cocaine repeat. But my girl was cleant tho… hair was laid and dress was bomb. Now if 19th century white people cocaine did all that….
you know what, I’m not gonna finish that. Nope. #CrackIsStillWack #JustSayNoKids
How did Sass know “We Are Family” if my man lived 500 years ago? Unless Sister Sledge are vampires or something. Is there something I missed, Sass? No one had done anything in that house in probably 50 years or so. And know after Great Aunt Sophie was done raising them kids (or one kid, I don’t know) she locked that place down. I doubt seriously she was jamming to late 70s soul. But then again we all know what Saturday mornings are for. Are you really cleaning if The Temptations aren’t on? Maybe. I don’t know Auntie Sophie like that…
What the hell did Issac have against Hamilton? I mean the man put that work and did like Drake #StartedFromtTheBottomNowWeHere. Don’t be hateful, my man. Don’t make me start calling you Colonial Stinkmeaner #ObligatoryBoondocksReference. And when are we gonna get that new book tho? I’m ready for that jawn to hit Barnes and Nobles like yesterday. Come on Sam, I need new reading material! It’s time the world knew about the “Eyesaac.”
What was Alberta doing hanging out with all them bootleggers in the first place? You could’ve been hanging out with Sugar and Quick, Bennie and Vera and been part of a successful Black business that turned into the most bad ass heist I’ve ever seen aside from Oceans 11-13. Girl! You could’ve bounced with them, had your share of all that money and continued to make a name for yourself. You know them gangsters ain’t nothing but trouble. Besides Capone was nasty as well. And when we gonna get an Alberta Haynes playlist/greatest hits on Spotify? I need new work out music! And don’t nothing get me more pumped than the classics, don’t cha know!
What was really going in Thor’s group of Viking comrades that made them say “we out hope you don’t die out here with absolutely no resources. Byeeeeeeee…. ?“ I guess true friends really do stab you in the front.
And you already know what I’m bout to say about Trevor #TMoney! But seriously what was you doing where the pants and the drawers was completely off but those socks stayed all the way pulled up? He didn’t even have a sock garter on. Listen, I used to go to Catholic School and I wore knee high socks as part of my uniform… and errday I came home from school looking like I had just participated in a WWF Royal Rumble…. my socks stayed falling down around my ankles.
So I had questions and I knew that Wikity Wik would have answers. Upon reading about the show, I discovered that like our language, Ghosts also had roots in England. In 2019, a group of 6 talented actors, writers, and comedians came together to write a show about the souls of people who lived over an extended period of time and who were to remain trapped on the land on which they died. They manage to find ways to entertain themselves without the ability to leave the premises or interact with the things around them. And because they are ghosts, no one can see or hear them except for themselves of course. Not even the woman who lives in the mansion. And when she dies, she’s lucky enough to ascend right away, unlike these wretched 8 souls. And so there they stay, stuck for all eternity without any livings to observe. Suddenly out of nowhere a young couple shows up, having just inherited the house and moves in with plans to start a hotel and live happily ever after. The ghosts, unhappy with the possibility of having to share their home with a bunch of randos, decide to haunt the couple away which fails miserably. It is a ghost rule that they can’t touch shit, remember? Well, except for “No Pants”… oh yes, England got a “No Pants” too. But it takes an extraordinary amount of effort on his part to make even the most delicate of tea cups tip over. He’s not the only one with a power either. There’s a ghost who can be heard singing, one who causes the immediate area around her to smell like smoke if she passes through a living, and one who can manipulate electricity. Again not quite enough to scare any millennial who is so poor that they are willing to accept a free house, regardless of how much work it needs or how many spirits abide inside. But hope is not lost yet for these trapped souls. The young woman who inherited the house from her ancestor, who happens to be a ghost living there as well, falls *cough *was pushed *cough* out of a window, busts her head on the ground and wakes up two weeks later with the ability to see ghosts. And the shenanigans that occur afterwards, you guys…Lord hammercy, it’s too much! It’s just too much.
So in true American fashion, we take something that is clearly working elsewhere and put our own spin on it to make it uniquely ours. Enter into this past fall when our story begins. Joe Port and Joe Wiseman, producers of American television, introduce us to a new group of ghosts, who were people who one lived in the Hudson Valley at various points throughout history and died on the land where this big old monstrosity of a house now sits, and here comes the young couple who has inherited the home and old girl trips over a vase, falls down the stairs, busts her head on the floor, and two weeks later wakes up with the ability to see ghosts. (Deep Breath!)
But it’s not the same! I promise.
Both versions of the show provide a different humor thats unique to the talented actors that portray the characters. Each character has his or her own backstory. Each ghost deals with his or her own grief surrounding the loss of his or her life and the lives that are left behind. And I truly believe that you can watch each version and come away feeling so happy and fulfilled because even though one came from the other, they are both special in their own ways.
So here I am today, totally enamored by the writing that both versions of this show brings to life. The drama and the comedy. The pain and the pleasure… all the emotions that this show evokes is something that honestly I haven’t seen in a long time. There is something about loss and death that is still somehow taboo… we don’t like to talk about it, but somehow we are obsessed with being entertained with it (horror movies, murder mysteries anyone?) But what Ghosts does is discuss death and the afterlife albeit with a sense of humor as just another part of life. It’s something we are all destined to do, and that’s okay. Along with the funny jokes and the silly banter, we also see raw emotion. We see the ghosts learn to cope with some of the more traumatic experiences, not only surrounding their deaths but also experiences that they’ve carried throughout their lives. We see the ghosts learn from each other and learn from the livings that help in some way change small-minded attitudes and perceptions that they may have had in life. We see them angry, hurt, confused, frustrated, happy, sad, excited, depressed. We see these ghosts not only co-exist because well they are stuck and have no other choice, but we see them form a family, made of people who perhaps they would not have associated with in life because of the color of their skin perhaps, their ethnicity, or even their religion or other beliefs. They love each other and have each other’s backs.
This is a show over which I’ve been able to bond with my two daughters, one of whom has increasingly become more emotional and hormonal and only wants to talk to her friends and play Roblox on her phone. Girlfriend is 10 going on 16 way too fast. And I know the time is coming where she will have absolutely no time for me anymore and that’s okay. But by watching this show together, we have something to talk about. We love to sit and watch while I do her hair and we will discuss in detail, everything we liked about the episode. Her favorite is Alberta. I’m more of a Petey Pie girl myself, #TheRepeter, #ArrowBae. Even my straight laced, no nonsense soldier husband, who spends so much of his down time pretending he’s a starting center in the NBA or a reaper collecting souls or a masked hero, spinning webs as he leaps and swings around Manhattan, loves the show (more so the BBC version since that’s the only one he’s watched so far) and we’ve spent some really sweet stay at home date nights binging Ghosts and laughing our butts off. His favorite is Robin, the pre-historic caveman, while my BBC ghostie fave draws a tie between Julian the player MP (member of parliament, for all you uncivilized folk) and Thomas the hopeless romantic and poet, who really isn’t very good at poetry but he does his very best, and that we all know is what really counts, right? I mean he’s so cute for trying, tho.
It’s almost as if these trapped spirits who in the afterlife were/are not able to watch over their own loved ones are not only able to bring this young couple closer together and closer to their goals, but also have been a contributing factor in helping my little family, as well as others I’m sure, reconnect at a delicate time in our lives where so often we are pulled apart by the responsibilities of school, work, and life in general. Once you get past all the jokey jokes, it truly is a beautiful show to watch.
Furthermore, there is also some real potential for serious character growth which begs the question, can souls int he afterlife have the potential for change? Well, if you’ve seen the tear-inducing saga that is Soul, you may say yes. We all know Pixar is out here to make you question all you know and leave you in a “glass case of emotion.” #RonBurgundy. But yes, maybe perhaps death isn’t the end and we can still find ways to become better after this song and dance called life ends. For example, Hetty, wife of a robber baron who lived in the late 1800s, and portrayed by the brilliant Rebecca Wiscoky, has begun to open up what was during her lifetime and in most of her “deathtime” so far a very closed and conservative mindset. In spending more time with the livings, one of whom is her 20 or 30 something year old descendant, she starts to believe that perhaps it might be okay that women wear pants and can work. She begins to accept that she too can make decisions for herself despite her being a woman. Her character reflects much of what women had to endure in society and how they were groomed to pretty much be emotionally and mentally abused and neglected by the men around them. She was never encouraged to take care of yourself and to make sure her needs her satisfied, and instead dedicated much of her life being in service and in completely blinding obedience to a husband that straight up disrespected her as a person. She took the obscene lies of the inferiority of women as complete truth and to handle any frustrations or sadness that she might have had, she turned to substances as a way to cope. A life lived to the utter fulfillment of someone else and the total neglect of oneself is still the story of many women today who put in countless hours of sacrifice to ensure that those around them soar and find success. The saddest thing about Hetty is that I don’t believe that she was ever encourage to make one decision on her own and for herself in her entire life. It took her 130 years to be accept that it is okay to take care of yourself. And isn’t self-care something we’ve all had to re-learn how to do, especially in the time of Covid? What an appropriate and powerful message!
Having such a diverse cast of characters and array of different backstories often foster the difficult conversations that can bring us as people closer together. And in just 14 episodes, my ever curious pre-teen daughter and I have ended each show with something new to talk about. Sometimes its funny and other times its poignant. The reason why this show just works is because its writing enables us to just think a bit further. It cultivates crazy theories and ideas about what may happen or what we’d like to see happen. It connects us to the story and the characters in such a way where maybe perhaps we wouldn’t mind tripping over a vase or falling out of a window if the end result happens to be the ability to help ghosts learn to come into their own.
So in binging both versions in less than two weeks, I’ve had a major breakthrough- I finally came to terms with the loss of my father. This happened on the date mentioned at the beginning of my tale. I had just settled in for the night after a long day of work and parenting and I was trying my damnest to journal, mostly resulting in utter garbage spilling onto my computer screen. I just so happened to have to have an episode of Ghosts on in the background. I started watching immediately because duh why wouldn’t I? I was particularly moved by #ArrowBae, who for the most part is a very happy go-lucky, most positive and selfless man without seemingly a care in the world. And despite the way he went out, he still sees the good and the potential in everything and in everyone.
*Spoiler… it was an arrow through the neck “accidentally” shot by some bad ass little girl who wasn’t listening during archery lessons in what looks like either camp or a scout meeting. But if you ask me, and I’m sure you are, I suspect foul play and here’s why. I believe this was a little girl who perhaps didn’t even want to be in scouts in the first place. I mean that arrow was shot with much too much precision for it have been an accident. My guess is that she would’ve rather been at the mall with her hair all crimped and rocking her bangles and Adidas while smoking with cigarettes outside the Gap. But her parents, seeing how their daughter is hanging around a bunch of these guttersnipes (shout out to Hetty/Jay for the new vocab) and is heading for a life of trouble, did what any worried parent would do and put her bad ass in an extracurricular activity. If she stays busy, then she won’t have time for shenanigans with those ruffians. But see, this girl don’t wanna even be at scouts, and she sure as hell don’t give a fuck about no bow and arrow jawns, so she concocts a plan to take out the leader, that way she can rise up and take over and lead the rest of those little girls down the path of wickedness. She was all like “that dude is annoying anyway. He’s corny as hell.” And I guess she figured no one would suspect a thing because she’s just a cute little girl in a cute little uniform fresh off being the top cookie pusher of the season. She could pull this off as a terrible accident and get away with it. No one would ever know.
But I know, lil girl…
Eitherwho, in this particular episode, we see a side to Pete that shows that he indeed is, or was in his case, a real human being with real feelings and emotions, aside from joy. He finds out that his wife, Carol, was having an affair with his best friend while the man was still alive thanks to her need to get it off her chest and blurting out her confession in front of two people she barely knew. We won’t get into what I think about these two, however… that’s a whole nother blog post. #TheyTrashTho.
So here’s the normally very chipper Pete dealing with all these feelings of anger and betrayal and humiliation for most of the episode. Boy, was #ArrowBae mad! Shit, I was mad for him. The unmitigated gall of those two… messing over my Petey Pie and then to really shit on his grave, they got married after he died! These mofos were like “oh no why Lord? Why him! Whyyyyy!!!” and then just got up and said “Okay that’s done, meet me at the chapel?” Like what the hell, Carol and whatever the hell the best friend’s name is? What. The. Hell?
But toward the end of the episode, when that man got a chance to see his daughter for the first time in 36 years and then found out he had a grandbaby… y’all! I’m telling you the look on his face, the struggle at whether to laugh or cry radiated powerful energy right through my screen. Shout out to Richieboo for pulling that shit off effortlessly. I felt that shit in my spirit as if my very own would jump right through my skin, phase through the pixels and signals and electrons and… whatever other stuff TV pictures are made of, and give Pete the biggest, most comforting hug in the whole wide world. It was through this scene that I felt the presence of my own father. It allowed me to imagine how it must’ve been like for him seeing my children for the first time, one of whom is also named in his honor. And I cried. I sat with those complex emotions that I never knew what to do with and cried. it. out. I had never cried for my father before this, which now I know is pretty messed up. I didn’t cry when he died. I didn’t cry during his funeral. I didn’t cry during his memorial service. And I’ve never cried on his death day. I just never dealt with it. I was young when he passed. Life kept happening. I had all these distractions with school and a boyfriend who would later become my husband. I had to focus on graduating and getting a good job. I got married and had children. We joined the military lifestyle and moved around a ton. My son got diagnosed with Autism and much of my energy went to helping him learn to live with that diagnosis. I didn’t have time to grieve. And maybe that was it… or maybe it was that I didn’t make time. I figured that that’s not how my dad would’ve wanted me to be. He wouldn’t have wanted me to be moping and crying all the time, especially over him. He was such an energetic and fun loving man who was able to command the attention of those around him easily. Everyone who knew him loved him (Gasp)…. sort of like #ArrowBae…
Oh my goodness… (stares into the distance)
This episode made me deal head on with the loss of my father. Sure, I could’ve turned off the TV or just have kept the volume down as I journaled my night away. But I didn’t. I knew it was time to just let go. And when the tears finally stopped, I felt at peace as though in that moment, he was with me and telling me it was okay. That he was proud of me and loved me and the family I had created. And if Ghosts keeps driving down this road, I have a feeling I will continue to confront and respond to my own grief for some time to come. It’s way past time.
Moving along. Overcome with emotion, I decided to take to the phone and type in exactly how I was feeling in the moment. I wrote. It wasn’t much, maybe a paragraph or two, but I wrote it down still. Every feeling I had, every emotion I was experiencing in that moment went into that post. I quickly added some pictures, took a still of #ArrowBae on the moving picture box, and posted away. An at here and a hashtag there and I posted. I never expected it to go anywhere.
But it did.
Cut to the next morning that was like every other week day morning. Get up before Jesus Himself, get the kids ready and off to school and settle down for about an hour with a cup of coffee and some oatmeal and enjoy a couple episodes of a good old comedy (this go round it’s What We Do In the Shadows… shout out to my man, Jackie Daytona) before hopping online to begin another day of paying the bills. As I normally do, without even thinking, right before signing onto my work computer, I turn on the screen on my phone. And what do I see before me lit up front and center…. A like and a comment from Richie Boo himself! (I realize I should’ve prefaced this with the fact that as soon as I started watching this show, I took an immediate liking to this guy. And I don’t know what it is about him really. But he is now the newest member of Robin’s Ultimate Boos and Baes list). Moving on.
Anyway, once I saw this notification on my phone! Honey! A bitch was screaming up in this house! I’m surprised that my neighbors didn’t do a welfare check on me. I did a speed walk all around my house, literally just screaming “Oh my God! Ohhhh. My. God!” And I know you are probably thinking that this girl is straight up sounding like a 13 year old at her first *NSYNC concert during their “Boys of the Summer” tour. I promise I’m doing my best not to sound as though Justin Timberlake just looked right into my pubescent soul and I just about died. But I cannot help it, y’all! I still get so geeked when I think about it. When you are a mom and you live a regular ass suburban/Army wife life, these are the things that make you just jump out your motherfucking seat! But once I sat down and did my deep breaths, I started to cry again. I was so moved… so humbled… that someone who probably has a million other more important things to do with his day and a family of his own to take care of would take the time to acknowledge me. To acknowledge my father. It was surreal. I felt like the kid in Jingle All the Way when his dad, played by Arnold Schwarzenegger, is dressed as his son’s hero Turbo Man during the Christmas Eve Parade and chooses his son to come to the float to win his very own Turbo Man doll er action figure. Mind you the kid didn’t know it was his dad and so he was all like “who me?” And papa Schwarz is all like “yes you… Jamie!” In that moment, I was that little Turbo Man obsessed kid that was a few years from becoming the dark lord himself (not Voldemort… sorry ass Anakin Skywalker). I was all like “who me? Surely you cannot be talking to me? Surely, mine eyes must be deceiving me and this cannot be real!” The fact that he read my writing, however short it was, and that he thought it to be worth commenting on was just more than I could take. And honestly I don’t feel like I was worthy. Things like this happen to other people. They don’t happen to me. His kind and thoughtful words made my day and nothing was about to bring me down. Not. one. thing.
Now let me be very clear. Like painfully clear. I’m never the one to really put myself out there. I never crave attention because quite frankly, it gives me anxiety. But this still was an amazing feeling and it was so reinforcing in ways I never thought possible. When I think about it, like really think about it, just the one action from him was as though someone took a blow torch and lit up all the inspiration I needed to #GetBackToIt.
And so, to the writers, producers, cast and crew of this amazing show, thank you! Thank you for helping me find my way to a second wind after a long time in the dark. Thank you for the laughs and the tears, for getting me to the point where I can talk about my father. He is not dead. He stays with me. And although I hope he is resting easy and is watching over me, part of me hopes that maybe, just maybe, he’s a ghost that I could possibly see again one day. After all, I have recently moved back to the state in which he passed, so anything is possible.
However, I’m not willing to fall down the stairs and bust my head on the floor to see if that happens.
Ghosts airs Thursdays at 9:00pm EST on CBS. Check it out… ghoul be happy you did! Sorry I couldn’t help myself!
4 thoughts on “That One Time A Show About Dead People Helped Me Find A Way Toward Inner Peace and Get My Groove Back”
As for the BBC series Ghosts, both myself and my fiancé love it. It’s very funny. xo
I love the BBC series! and I love that there are similarities and differences that make each version unique!
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