Buried Memories

My life is a catalog of the unusual, but I always wondered why I did not see ghosts as a child especially cemetery spirits. The truth is, I did. I just forgot and my memory came roaring back in December of 2013.
I found myself with time to kill while waiting for my wife to get off work. She worked across the street from the cemetery in which my great grandfather is buried. He died almost 2 years before I was born.
For some time, I had been continuously drawn to his grave and visited often when I was in the area.
On a Saturday afternnon, I was at his grave. I felt unable to leave. I scanned his grave, but I did not sense a presence. So I asked if I was the being that lived that lifetime, and then I felt a presence. I further asked if this was my experience or one belonging to a spiritual teammate. It was a spiritual teammate’s, so I asked when the being joined my body and the date flashed along with the memory that accompanied it.
I recalled going to visit  him with my grandmother. She told me we were going to visit her father, but did not mention that he was dead. When we arrived at the grave, he greeted me at the car. He was excited to see me and there was a mutual love present between us.  She was talking to him as if he was present and sometimes looking right at him. His grave was right behind him.
He asked if he could come with me and I said yes. My communication was likely telepathic, because I was less than two years old. When we left, he was in the front seat, turned around talking to me.

Afterward, I would see him often for sometime. It would usually be at my grandmother’s house while she had briefly stepped into another room and I was momentarily alone.

As these memories came back, I stood there with joy and sorrow surging through me. It was even harder to leave, until I realized he was where he always had been; with me.

And then memories flooded in of seeing crowds of people in the graveyard as a child. Always.

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