Where The Dead Reside

 

“Is it really like that when you die?”

 

We were watching the Book Of Life. In the land of the dead there is more life and celebration than when people are alive especially on the Day Of The Dead.

 

“I don’t know sweetie.”

 

I was going to say that no one has ever come back to tell anyone about what happens at the same time flashing back to when I saw my grandfather after he’d passed. Was it a dream? Certainly wasn’t what my definition of a vision was in those days. I walked into a luncheonette and he was sitting at a booth. I almost walked past suddenly recognizing him. He had his head down chuckling like he did when he was playing a joke. I got excited and teary never expecting to see him again overwhelmed he’d come to see me and he frowned as if I were being absurd. I guess I was. He loved me. Should I ever have doubted it? He looked good, young and healthy. I think I hugged him. The same thing happened with my grandmother. She was on a sidewalk on a street like we lived in Yonkers, residential homes in a row shaded by trees. She was in a dress like she’d worn when she was younger wearing a pair of shoes with stacked heels. How could I have known? I was no more than an infant if that. I might not have even been a thought yet. She walked briskly, looked so healthy and in great shape. There were other relatives. They all looked good completely free of pain. Not in any of that had anyone talked about what happens or where they’d been hanging out these days. No tunnels, no lights, no voices calling, besides, I was still alive.

 

He spoke before I could offer an explanation, as if, or an insight.

 

“Well when you die you’ll have to take your iPad.”

 

“Do you want me to send you pictures?”

 

He became quiet watching all that went on.

 

“Your iPad will have to die too.”

 

“So I can send a message then?”

 

“Yes you can tell me.”

 

“Okay.”

 

 

 

Sunday Is for Vampire: Eggs And Mama Lupe’s

 

And sometimes it’s not about vampires at all. Or it could be… nah, that’s repeating myself. Scratch ‘or it could be’. Ok.

 

“Horror always has sad endings” or at least that’s what the horror book said to the little boy. I watched a horror movie earlier yesterday and it did have a sad ending although evil was defeated. Clairvoyant, well more than that and our hero’s girlfriend survived the shooting we thought, but he sees dead people and saw her. He knew but he couldn’t acknowledge, couldn’t face it until friends, good friends like family stopped by and woke him. He’d been staying at her house and they’d been living, laughing, loving together, then he saw her as she was blood dripping from her wounds and my heart broke for him. He had to move on without her but a couple of the last lines stuck out that she believed life is a boot camp, we have to persevere through the obstacles and hardships to earn the way to the next life but he thought the training is sometimes unnecessarily painful.

 

True enough… sometimes…

 

On a roll with horror I watched a second one that had an honest-to-goodness happy ending. Evil was defeated, the family lived and the wrap-up was if we stick together, we can get through anything. Sappy, but after what had been going on and the way especially when it comes to evilness and you think it’s over it’s not over yet leaving us exhausted with no relief in sight by the end of the credits, I felt good, you know, glad they made it and what evil was trying to get a hold on it was deprived of.

 

It’s about time love won out.