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Let Me Still Touch You

It was a week after my father in law had passed away. I was sitting and prepping for lunch, while my son who was 4 years old, was playing right outside the kitchen, in the dining hall. My father in law's favorite and last grand kid was my son, and since he was born, he was always close to him. He used to sleep with him, play with him, go to market with him, was all the time on his bed, and even when he was unwell, he always wanted to see him sitting next to him watching him play from sunrise to sunset. Soon, I could hear my son talking to someone, and I rushed outside as there was no one home and my mother in law was off to a wedding ceremony in a close by village. He skipped and came closer and told me that "Jejebaapa, was playing with me and wanted to take me to the market", hearing which I was surprised as I saw no one. At first I thought he was bluffing, but then the next day, as I was coming out from the kitchen, I saw a hand touching my son's back from the dining room's window, as I ran outside to see who it was, I couldn't find anyone. But my son, still mentioned that he was there with him that afternoon while he played in the sand.



    The week following my father-in-law's passing was a somber one. As I prepared lunch, my four-year-old son played innocently in the dining room. He was his grandfather's cherished grandchild, the apple of his eye. They had shared an inseparable bond since his birth, their days filled with shared laughter, playful adventures, and quiet moments of companionship.

Suddenly, I heard my son conversing with someone unseen. Startled, I rushed to the dining room, only to find it empty. My mother-in-law was away at a wedding, leaving the house quiet. My son, oblivious to my concern, skipped towards me, his face lit with joy. "Jejebaapa played with me!" he exclaimed, "He wanted to take me to the market!"

Initially, I dismissed his words as the ramblings of a young child. However, the following day, a chilling incident shook me to my core. As I emerged from the kitchen, I caught a glimpse of a hand, seemingly reaching through the dining room window to touch my son's back. Heart pounding, I raced outside, but the figure had vanished. Yet, my son insisted that his grandfather had been there, playing with him in the sand.

The haunting encounters left me questioning the boundaries between the living and the departed. My son's innocent belief in his grandfather's continued presence offered a bittersweet comfort, a reminder of the enduring love that transcended the veil of death.




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