Haunted by my father’s ghost, or stay away from that rearview mirror, by Earl Short

I would have never expected to see a suspicious person, all in black, at my graduation. The body frame was familiar, but still I could not figure out what I imagined I saw. The possibilities were endless. As they called my name, I looked over, picture ready, and unexpectedly I saw my father in this form. My emotions became overwhelming; I had never had any closure over my father’s death. I just knew that we had a memorial with no body or coffin. When he passed, I refused to go to the morgue to see his body because of the excruciating aching in my heart. The thought of seeing him was very confusing because I knew I had not seen him since he was pronounced dead. His last outgoing communication was to my cell phone, and I never had an opportunity to answer the call.

Graduation is my best achievement. It means a lot to me for my family to be present to support me and stand firm. Before graduation, my thoughts began to cloud my mind about my father’s absence. I still have not really dealt with his death, which make me angry and depressed at times. When I saw the person dressed all in black, it seems as if he could have been my father, but my mind plays tricks on me and makes me think the unthinkable. Ernest Short is not alive, so how could this be him? As I walked down the stairs, I looked down. Again, I looked back and there was no one there. Therefore, I let it fly over my head. But I keep seeing that all-black cape even as I drive and look through my review mirror.
        
A few months later, I saw my dad at my graduation party and I instantly became furious! My vision was third person; I could look at myself and see the steam blow through my ears. I said “You’re the last person I expected to see here!” Staring at him, I asked loudly, “Did you fake your death?” His mouth began to move but no sound came out. I started to wipe my ears and swipe my eyes, just over a whisper of voice. I soon realized there was no way this was real.  Therefore, I tried to see if I could touch him and my arm went through his hand. Moreover, he looked at me and said, “I’m sorry son.” I asked him to talk again and then again, but I could not hear anything. At this moment, I realized I was mourning my father’s death.

My dad struggled as a drug addict and alcoholic for most of my childhood. As I grew older, I started to realize the importance of changing myself. Some commitments I made to my parents were that I would make better decisions, make a career for myself, and graduate. One way of making that possible was to let the past go and stop believing in superstitions. There was no way possible my dad would not have contacted me throughout these last three years if he were still alive. I knew he had to be a ghost because my grandmother saw his body when he was deceased before any of the memorial plans. No one would spend unnecessary money just to fake a death.

I look forward to escaping those thoughts of what I saw from the rearview mirror. The rearview mirror takes me back to the depressed feeling that I could have stopped his death by just answering the phone. Then after I woke up to my alarm clock ringing, I realized I wish I could have seen him at least one more time, just to clarify if he was actually dead or alive.  May 1, 2013, is not long ago, and I still remember how he looked as far as his body figure and weight, even down to his facial features. I know I saw his face. I knew if I looked through the windshield and not the rearview, I could let my future guide me forward to receive growth.