Things That Go Bump in the Night

There be beasties here – ghosts and apparitions that are only seen out of the corner of the eye.  Then there are the ones who hit you with a 2 X 4 between the eyes.

After making every possible excuse to avoid it, it took five years to make a return trip to New Jersey.  Mind you, on my last trip I was here less than two days and my reason was to set up a storage unit on my move from Maine to Florida.  Don’t ask why I stored things in New Jersey, I may have to start self flagellating again and we don’t want that.  On that trip, I saw only one of my sisters, my mother (for the last time) and an Esperanto speaking moving van guy who would say “gooly goo” or something like that to which I would smile and nod – little did I know that meant help yourself to my stuff and overcharge me, please.

If it were only to empty the storage unit, I probably would not have made the trip.  So far, and the $$$ are still adding up, it will take about five years of not paying storage fees to make up for the cost of this trip.  Flying into Newark (on purpose), renting a car and driving to the middle of nowhere is far more expensive than you might think. 

And then there are the ghosts.

Many occupied the storage unit itself.  In there were cast aside remnants of my business, my marriage, the marriage of my business, the business of my marriage, Christmas decorations (yay!), my grandmother’s antique china, original artwork, journals, photos… no climate control and all were incredibly in perfect condition.  I think I bested Dorian Gray on that score. 

Between cleanup, trips to the UPS store, and meeting the unit’s grim reaper – the trash hauler – I had some time to explore the area.  The most remarkable thing is how little has changed in the 13 years since I moved from here.  Some businesses have closed, others opened, a new house here and there, abandoned (foreclosed) houses… but for that amount of time the change is insignificant.  I almost wish some of it was wiped off the earth but even that could not keep the ghosts at bay.

I saw my old house, the places I used to go, where I used to work… all carried bittersweet memories.  I have both demonized and romanticized this place.  Actually being here has been a good reality check and an opportunity to put some things to rest.  Nothing is ever completely resolved and may continue to haunt, but haunt away… I will not be here.

Then there is what finally tipped the scales in favor of making this trip - an opportunity to spend time with my very dear friend Scott.  Our escapades over the past 30 years, not to be outdone by yesterday’s whirlwind tour of the seamy underbelly of the Dover bar scene is a story, make that several stories, in itself.  Let it suffice to say that as usual, we had a great time and actually got out alive and unharmed.  If you know the area, you appreciate what that means.

As my thoughts turn to leaving this place for possibly the last time, something occurs to me.  Maybe, just maybe, now I will be a ghost who haunts this place.

Boo.