By the end of Wednesday─All Souls’ Day─I was left scratching my head at how determinedly the souls of my past brought themselves to my attention over the course of the day.
First, Wednesday would have been the 54th birthday of my brother who passed away in April, so my waking thoughts were of him and how he would be forever stalled at 53.
Then I sat down in my office to begin my writing day. But my desk had become an out-of-control cluttered mess, and I decided that I just couldn’t stand it any longer. I started to dig through the piles. As I made my way down through the old receipts, work assignments and scribbled phone numbers, I came across my brother’s obituary clipped from the newspaper. I smiled when I saw his face.
Not much farther down the paper clutter pile, I found the In Memoriam card for my mother-in-law. Looking at her smiling face, I remembered her fondly.
As I cleared more and more of my desk, it became apparent that I hadn’t dusted in my office for quite a while. I got out my dustcloth and tackled the desk and then the shelves, which had pictures of my father, my grandfather, and my father’s birth mother.
Huh, I thought. This was really shaping up to be an All Souls’ Day.
Then my daughter came home from school and began work on her Sociology project. Our family tree. We spent the evening filtering through documents and pictures of aunts, uncles, cousins, in-laws, grandparents, great-grandparents, great-greats, and beyond from both sides of the family.
When I woke up Wednesday morning and looked at my calendar, I noted that it was All Souls’ Day with quaint interest. But the veil was very thin around my house on Wednesday, and by the end of the day it felt a little eerie.
Next year, I’ll be sure to give those determined souls of my past more than just a passing nod.