My Angel

My Angel

Ever have a 'friend' when you were a child that no one else could see? Well I did. I called her my angel. My friend was a grown woman. I didn't really think about her most of the time. She was not always there, and I didn't talk to her out loud. We 'talked' to each other without talking and basically, without words. You just always knew what was said.

As a child, we moved around most of the time. My father was in the Air Force. I was child number 4 and three more came after me. You're probably thinking I don't fit the profile of the typical lonely child with an invisible friend. After all, look at all the siblings I had. Course there were times I didn't feel like I belonged. Most of the time, it was when my mother made her statement to people. They would see us children together and comment on all of us, and how we all look related.... My mother would say, oh yes, this one and this one and this one take after my husband, and this one and this one and this one take after me, but Marianne, well, Marianne is special. And she'd smile at me like it was suppose to be some-thing great and I'd be there thinking, I must be adopted, but why with as many children as there were, would you want to adopt one more?

Yes, I was special, if special meant that no one else in my family ever saw my angel, until later.... but that's another story. The relationship with Angel was one that when she came, I paid attention. She helped me find my way home when I got lost. She pointed out wondrous things to see. I could feel her around at times even when I couldn't see her. I could feel her influence at times even when I couldn't see her. She told me when my baby brother died even before we got the call. I still remember waking from my nap and knowing that he had died. My grandmother was staying with the rest of us while my parents were staying in another state with him at the hospital. I told my grandmother, Joseph just died, but it's OK, it was in his sleep, and he'll be OK now. My grandmother was busy telling me, how I should never say that, that someone had died, and that I shouldn't give up hope. Joseph would have the operation and he would come home and he would be fine. Then the phone rang, and it was my parents calling to tell my Grandmother what I had already told her.

So now I guess I pretty much gave you the background of my friend, my Angel. But I haven't told you the rest of the story. I haven't told you who my friend is. I didn't even know it till I saw the picture. If you remember, I told you we moved around when I was a child. Even after we finally bought a house, as my dad was so close to retirement we thought they wouldn't transfer him again, they transferred us right after we moved in to our new home. So it wasn't until we came home after two years in Illinois, after my dad was finally really retired, that my mom got around to setting up the house. Things we had in storage at my Grandmothers house, that she hadn't wanted to cart around from place to place, gradually made their way to our house. Finally, one day, my mom pulled a box into the living room to empty and out came a whole slew of family albums and some pictures. My mother lovingly uncovered a wrapper frame and preceded to wipe it off for display as I grabbed an album and got a look at my mom as a baby. When I finally saw the picture in the frame I couldn't believe it, it was my angel! I told my mom it was my angel and she didn't understand. I told her it was the friend that I had as a child. When she finally understood what I was saying, she told me that my friend was truly an angel. It was none other then HER grandmom, who she had been very close to. The grandmother who had died shortly after my mother had her first child. My great grandmother, who had never seen any of us, but my sister Fran, in life, was my friend, my angel, in death.

Oh, and one more thing.... the "but Marianne, well, Marianne is special". I'm what's called a throw back. Though I have some family resemblance to my siblings, I'm an exact duplicate of my great Grandmother. I have her skin, shade and complexion, her face, her looks, her likes and dislikes in food, and according to my mom and grandmom, her personality. As for me, ;;looking at the picture;; I think I'm going to look pretty good when I get older.

mg.jpg (7045 bytes)

~Marianne G.

Note: Marianne G. had originally sent this into an online newspaper that we were both involved in (The Kymer Clarion). When I was setting up this section, I contacted her for permission to reprint it here. She graciously agreed. Thanks MG!!

Return to the READERS CONTRIBUTIONS page

Return to the main MAIN GHOST page

Recommended Books | FAQ

TAKE A LOOK AT MY SELECTION OF GREAT GHOSTLY LINKS!

The copyright to this story and any photos that appear on this page belong to the person that sent them to me. Despite the fact that some of them prefer to remain anonymous, they still retain all legal rights. They have graciously granted me permission to include their stories/photos on this page.
Jenny