ghosts

They came out of nowhere

     I went to get a bottle of red to enjoy with my salmon tonight.  I know...red doesn't go with fish.  I don't care.  I like red.
     As I was browsing my vast collection, my eye was caught by a strange looking book.
     I picked it up and it was a photo album.
     My Uncle Henry was a professional photographer.  Innovative, creative, and a heck of an interesting man.  I regret not taking the time to know him better.  To me he was just Uncle Henry.
     I opened the album and the ghosts appeared.
     There was my healthy, youthful mother and her sisters.  Kay, Dorothy, Loretta, Bea.  And brothers Doug and Harry. Ant their spouses, Jim, Floyd, Gene, Henry, Pat and Laurel.  My dad was  there, uncharacteristically with a Christmas bow on his head and a semi smile on his face.  There was the mysterious Minkie, the little old Scottish lady who lived with Uncle Jim and Aunt Kay and who taught me how to drink pink tea from a saucer while feasting on shortbread she made every Christmas.  I recognized my grandparents, and remembered I have a chair that might have been Grandpa Kohler's years ago.  I think it is, but 60 years is a long time to remember a chair.
     There were my brothers, my cousins, in laws of the family.  I smiled when I saw Buddy, Aunt Bea's beloved dog. 
     Most, not all, of them are gone now. 
     And I smiled when I saw the cottages on Dewey Lake in Michigan, where I spent many summer nights dreaming of the lovely Beth and her sister Deanie.  At one time, when I was 14,  I loved them both.
     My guess is the cottages are gone too.
     And there are people that are familiar, but I don't recognize them.  Family?  Friends?  I don't remember.
    I did find a red that paired very nicely with salmon and memories.
    Maybe just a little too well with the memories.
Peace ane Love