Friends, when I was a child, I lived in a little village in the middle of the English countryside. At night, there were A LOT of moths, and I was terrified of them. But my parents had a lot of problems and they couldn’t be there for me. So, when I got moths in my room—which happened all the time because I was too dissociated to work out that when you leave the window open, moths fly in—I had to deal with them myself. I found this terrifying. I’d shriek and weep and smack at them all with books. I’d tremble—even after I’d killed them.
Anyway, over a decade later, my father passed. After he’d gone, I still babbled on to him all the time, so I knew that the father in my mind was sorry about the moth situation. But that didn’t feel like evidence! Anyway, one dark night, when The Man and I were taking our dog into the back garden, we stepped outside into the dark night without turning off the light. This was unusual for me. As an adult, I was obsessed about turning off lights so moths didn’t get in.
As soon as I realized the light was on behind us, I gasped and turned around to switch it off, but suddenly, before I’d even reached the switch, the light simply shut off.
We were at The Man’s place at the time, so I called out, “Honey, how did you switch the light off from outside?”
“I didn’t do that,” he said. “Didn’t you?”
To this day, the only answer I have is that my dead father is now determined to protect me. And that’s just one of the occurrences that suggests he’s still around….
More on that soon, my friends! Hope you’re all well!
Romancey Pants 