Ghosts are part of our lives. We may have a different definition of ghosts…but they are there…just around the corner. My friend Richard reminded me of ‘Ghosts from our past’; in fact, our past is an integral part of our present. We fashion our future from the jigsaw edges of our experiences.

‘I am certain that was Rosebud,’ Neva J. exclaimed! ‘Where was she when you saw her,’ Billy B. asked? ‘She was ahead of us in Giant City Woods this morning…When she looked around at me she grinned and motioned for me to follow her into a deeper section of the Wood,’ Neva J. said. ‘Have you ever met Rosebud,’ Chet asked Billy B? ‘No but I have heard much about her,’ he replied.

‘I do not think there is a sadder time than the death of your mother,’ Neva J. said. ‘Perhaps on par with that type of sadness is the death of your child,’ Jane offered. ‘Rosebud looks that same with her beautiful hair and glowing skin and dancing eyes,’ Neva J. said with a tear in her eye. ‘I have asked her why she does not visit more often and she told me that she is never far as she is next to the last of our lineage…I am the last,’ Neva J. said. At times we enjoy a glass of wine together and we laugh and laugh at her jokes,’ she continued. ‘Rosebud told me to call her Rose B. in honor of her maturity, Chet said. ‘So you have seen Rosebud recently,’ asked Billy B.? ‘Why yes…she sits behind me in class…you know the pretty blond-haired girl who is always smiling and is a bit shy,’ Chet said with some disbelief that Billy B. did not know the girl’s name.

‘Rose B. told me that she would be joining us on the nature hike at Giant City today in honor of her and Neva J.’s mom…Grace,’ Chet said. ‘I noticed that when we all took a trip to Hickory Hill Cemetery that next to Grace’s headstone was a small stone with only the name…Rosebud on it…’ Jane said in a hoarse whisper…

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