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Family Ghost by © moon_grace Well, sometimes, things just happen. My granny died. This was not so bad but she must have felt it coming on because a week or two before she died she had asked for someone to come take her to go get her will changed. Still, she never got around to it. Anyway, she was a Holiness. Yes, a Holiness. She never wore anything that showed her elbows and she never wore makeup. She was one of those ladies that you see sometimes that have extremely long hair in a bun at the back and a dress that covers the elbows. Everyone at church was "Sister so-n-so or Brother so-n-so." They shouted, they ran up and down the aisles and they played the electric guitar-quite a show when you are only five. She was an odd woman. On those Saturday nights I stayed with her, after bath time, it was, "Come on in here, wrestling's on and Haystack Calhoun is on there tonight." Immediately after wrestling, it was, "Ok, let's be quiet now, cause Brother Graham is preaching on TV tonight." Hmmmm. I went from leg-holds to "Come now, down the aisle or put your hand on the TV" within a matter of moments. She was mostly a gentle woman unless you were an opossum. How that thing got into the house, I still to this day have not figured out, but she had just turned off the set that night and heard a noise. It was an opossum under her wardrobe. Honey, she took that slate walking stick that my Great Uncle Jess had made her and while she made me go for higher ground (her bed) she killed him. Killed him dead with me screaming the whole time..."Don't Kill Him! My mamma will let me have him, I just know she will." She didn't listen. LOL. One thing I had to hand to her, the woman I know got literally down on her knees every single night beside her bed and said her prayers out loud. This I know because I would be on the sofa sleeping and I could see her and hear her. Then, would always come "The Moment." "Did you say your prayers?" "Yes mam." "I didn't hear you." "Well I said them quiet like." I never was much on that praying out loud when I was little.  She was an odd one in a way. She had a tiny house and in just about every room was one of those pictures of Jesus with the light shining on it. In the bedroom she put me in when it was summer, there was a photograph that supposedly my Grandfather took when he worked undercover as a photographer for the Pinkertons on trains. I hated that crazy thing. Woman's eyes would follow you no matter where you went. Gave me the creeps. I only slept on the sofa in winter because that room would be closed off to conserve heat. She was a big woman; mountain of a woman, actually. She stood over six foot tall and was built like a Green Bay Packer. In the years before she got religeon, she had her moments. Once, when my father was young, he decided to be sassy one day and run out the door so she couldn't catch him. Not being a woman who ever ran, she waited. It was a hot day and she had the windows open because she was making apple butter. As my dad ran by the window, out came a quart jar of apple butter through the window and KONK! Right upside his head. Knocked him clean out.  She was strong, even if she wasn't fast. She mowed her own yard with one of those old mowers with the blades that turned with the wheels. The kind that didn't have an engine. As she got older, her boys decided she needed a mower with an engine, so they got her one. Not a good idea. There was a steep hill on her small lot. She was mowing it and slipped. Off came her last three toes on one foot. She calmly went in and bathed and changed her clothes. She was not about to go to the hospital in her "Yard mowing dress." Strong woman, mountain of a woman....strong willed woman. She died. She had what they called hardening of the arteries and she just died one night. Her sister called my uncle who went over there. He did CPR and brought her back. Now, personally, I think this is where the trouble started. This old woman had said for years, "When I die, don't hold me back, cause I am ready to meet my Maker." I was just a kid and I knew bringing her back like that wasn't right. She lived for a day or two. She never woke up. Finally, she went on again despite the hospital and machines. Well, they had the funeral. Then came the will thing, the part where you read the will and walk through the house and the house gets dismembered and all your childhood memories end up split all across town. I ended up with three things. A salt shaker that was a bird cage on a stand, a picture of the ocean with a cut out of Jesus she had glued to it, and an old wooden wardrobe.  The picture was typical. Having an ample supply of fans from the local funeral parlor, she had cut the picture of Jesus from one and glued it on the picture. She liked that walking on water thing. Anyway, the same uncle who brought her back to a meager existence for a couple of days was the same one that got her house. He moved in. Time went on and on and on and a year later, he was living in her home and she still did not have a marker on her grave. Hmmmmmmmm. They started hearing sounds, during the day or night. It unnerved them. A person with three toes missing has a distinctive way of walking. This is the sound they heard; the sound of her walking. In the meantime, there was a lot of contention in the family over it being a year already and no marker. There was this thing that only he could have a marker placed. The other brothers and sisters told him, we will pay for it, just put it on there. He got a bit angry. Told them if they put one up, he would have it pulled down. Hmmmmm. So, it went on and escalated. Hard words. Family killing words. And, of course, more sounds more often of the step-slide, step-slide that she did in life. One night, he walked into the bedroom, this room where she had knelt and prayed every night and a car came through the house. A driver had gone out of control and ran his car into the house. It pinned my uncle up against the dresser. Well now, that changed things mighty fast. He was spooked. The pink granite marker was placed. Still, she walked. It really scared him now. So, he went to the older ones in the family who told him-- To get rid of the ghost, you have to get rid of the old wood cause their spirit stays in the wood. Well...Out came all the baseboards and windows, out came the kitchen cabinets and the interior doors. Even for a small house, must have cost him a fortune. But, the walking stopped afterwards. So, he got rid of her. I say, she did good and me, I go sit by that old wardrobe that we converted to a china cabinet long ago and I tell her...Good for you, Granny, Good for you. Take care out there... moon_grace.