Ghost

This is my picture for Illustration Friday the theme is ghost. "Ghost" was painted with my new acrylics on a piece of canvas paper. This is probably the worst drawing I have ever made for IF and not at all what I had in mind when I started my picture, but after spending all afternoon trying to draw a cowboy hat and never getting it right, I decided to make a quick painting with my new art supplies. I hope the story makes up for the bad painting.

They say one out of every four people has seen a ghost. I've seen a few ghosts in my life. The first time I saw a ghost was in the Haunted Mansion at Disneyland. Of course, I now know the ghost I saw there wasn't real, but it scared me enough that I remember it happening and I was only 3 ½. The fright I experienced was especially satisfying for my Grand Father, who we called Grampa George.

The reason Grampa George was so elated by my fear was because in the early sixties he was part of the excavating crew that dug the hole where they built the Haunted Mansion. When the ride finally opened Grampa George paid for my brother, my mother and me to take a train from Eugene to Anaheim so we could experience the Haunted Mansion.

The only two things I remember about that trip are being scared by a ghost, while Grampa George laughed and mom buying me a candy bar on the train from a super friendly gentleman, who in my memory looks like Scatman Crothers.

Sadly, I don't remember too much about my Grand Father. I remember he loved the desert, he loved his cowboy hat, (The thing I spent the afternoon trying to draw.) and every time we came to visit he would make us pancakes.

Grampa George was also with me the second time I saw a ghost. Well, actually he was the ghost. I couldn't have been more than nine and I woke up early one morning, before the sun had even come up and Grampa George was standing next to my bed wearing his hat. I wondered what he was doing there since my mom had just been to his funeral a week earlier. I was about to ask, but before the question could come out he shushed me and told me I needed to get up and make some pancakes.

I went to the kitchen and started getting flour, milk and eggs together, to put in a bowl. I had no idea how to make pancakes, but I knew these were some of the key ingredients. The noise I was making woke up my mom. She came into the kitchen fuming.

"What are you doing up this early and why are you making such a big mess?" she asked, barley controlling the angry warble in her voice.

"I was trying to make pancakes," I said.

"But you don't even know how to make pancakes," she seethed.

"I know, but Grampa George thought it was a good idea."

"Grampa George told you?"

"Yeah, he woke me up and said I should make some pancakes."

My mom’s eyes welled up with tears and you could see the rage drain from her body. She grabbed me, squeezed me and then started sobbing. After about ten minutes she stopped shaking, wiped her eyes and said, "I think it's about time you learned how your granddad made pancakes."

Then my mother and I made the most delicious pancakes I have ever had.

This is a true story.

Have you ever seen a ghost? Have you left any love?