If the Spirit Moves You (or Smells Like Christine Spirit)

My dead grandmother is living my bathroom.
Wait, oh my gosh, that came out all wrong.
My dead grandmother WAS living in my bathroom.

There, much better.

I knew she was there because I smelled her.  Not so much her, as her apartment.   Her sweet,old, hard-to-describe apartment smell that was something like: salami and cheese and homemade pizza and house coats and plastic tablecloths and Jean Nate' and just...Nana.

And, since I already sound like a loon...

I might as well admit that once I had her, I didn't want to let her go. So, I locked her in. Yes, yes, I know that's insane.  Everyone knows ghosts can float through walls.  But, still.

I hadn't seen her in years so I planned to keep her.

Shockingly, there is an awkward side to housing one's deceased grandmother.   For one, guests can't use the bathroom.  You know...in case they release Nana.

That wasn't always popular.

For two, I  started to fear Nana had come for a reason.  Why had she chosen to visit ME (aka, chicken liver), given my well-documented disdain for (incredible fear of) all things supernatural (including but not limited to: poltergeists, apparitions, electronic voice phenomenon, the movie Rosemary's Baby, Ouija boards, unexplained noises, people talking about unexplained noises, haunted houses, the Haunted House ride at Disney World, channeling, possession, Jason, Michael, Carrie and Casper.)   Why not haunt my sister?! She's brave (clearly touched) and strong (undeniably coo coo) and watches things like The Shining all alone with all the lights off (animal. crackers.)!  And, why now? After all these years??!

Maybe she just came by to check on me.  Yes, that must be it.

Or  mayyyyybeeee...she was trying to tell me something (gulp.)!  Like..."Be a good daughter and move back to PA!" or "Stop using jarred spaghetti sauce!"   I  considered asking her but I was terrified she'd answer.

Mercifully...

Nana never revealed the reason for her visit and moved on a month later, just when I was getting really used to having her.  I reckon she hi-tailed it back to the great beyond upon realizing my roommate (and her over-cologned, under-achieving boyfriend) was bat crap bonkers.

Can't say I blame her; I barely made it out alive.

Today, I am happy to report that Nana still passes through my new residence from time to time, weaving her scent and reminding me of how wonderful she was.

But, Nana, in case you are reading this blog over my shoulder (and, I sincerely hope you are not.)...

I adore you.  But, I do not...let me be clear, DO NOT wish to actually see you.  Or, hear you.  Also, kindly refrain from levitating objects or flashing lights.  I'd really hate to have to move again (I kinda like THIS roommate). ;)

I am, however, happy to smell your sweet Nana scent, anytime.

And, if you come across my Nana McKechan on your travels, please bring her to the states for a visit. I'd love to have her, too!  As long as she abides by the above-mentioned rules.