#spirits_of_the_dead

I hadn’t been in my new place long; a couple of months maybe, when I began to feel strangely lonely. It was a new feeling for me. I’ve always relished being alone. I chalked it up to the tribulations of divorce. I should’ve told someone. I didn’t though. I didn’t want to complain to the people I loved. I should have. Instead I got ready for bed and quickly began to drift off to sleep when I felt a hand on my arm. The touch was warm and loving. I knew it was my grandfather. I fell asleep remembering he’d remind me to hang on, that it would get better. You know what? It did. My grandfather has been gone for a very long time now, but his love remains.