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When my dearest friend Dee died ten years ago, the sifting of her possessions went to her friends Charlotte and Tammy. They discovered a trove of greeting cards unsent and decided mailing them could not be the wrong thing to do.

This is the card I received. Dee’s favorite holiday was Halloween, though she could do a right thorough job on Christmas as well. Imagine the slight dislocation, then delight, melancholy, to hear from her again.

In 1971 through all manner of circumstance, it fell to me to sort the contents of my grandparents’ attic. The experience was like opening a tomb, as evidently it had not been disturbed in decade upon decade.

Unplundered, among the treasures I found a Ouija board. Though Dee and I never tried it out, I turned it over, at something resembling her insistence, to her care. I suspect the evil husband in its vanishing, Charlotte and Tammy found not a trace of it during their good works.

The following essay I would call balanced in its talk of ‘experiences’. I myself have had one that in particular could not be explained the way deja vu has been, the left brain taking in a scene a semi-demi-micro-millisecond before the right brain does.

‘Experiences’? What about you? I’m always hopeful for another.

Why am I telling you this?

I started blogging in 2009, but in October 2016, I ditched the previous posts in a fit of cyber housecleaning. Some of it was really nice writing, but alas, as my old friend Susan once said: ‘Compulsion is a cruel master’.

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