Speaking to Ghosts

I am a nurse in one of the bleakest places left in humanity, a nursing home. However, I was blessed enough to work with one gentleman that taught me old age was not truly the most horrible fate that humanity has to face.

At the age of seventy-six he still had most of his facilities. Every day I worked with him he would tell me stories of his life. Most would have thought he was a rambling old fool. He rarely smiled, though he always greeted whomever he met with a deep voiced hello. The strange behavior began when he started to greet people who weren’t really there.

Finally, after about a week of this behavior, as I grabbed his Dinner jacket and was wheeling him to dinner, I asked him about it. “Don’t you know, people think you are losing your mind? You greet people who are not even there.”

He smiled as he replied, “You may not see them, but I do. In being cordial to the ghost they go and leave me be. When you’re this close to seeing them all again it’s rude to just ignore them… besides, most people here don’t even notice that I do it.”

After his little speech, I realized that he was right. Most people there did not pay any attention to most of what the residents did, including other residents. He and I would tease each other it helped keep my spirits up as much as it did his. I decided I would go along with him on the ‘whole ghost greetings issue’.

I had been gone a couple of weeks and went to get him to take him to dinner. “Dinner time, Mr. McKinney.”

“Ah, I’m so glad it’s your shift, dear, you always know which jacket is my dinner jacket. The other yahoo’s give me a darn blanket, thinking I’m cold. Stupid snot’s any ways.”

“I’m glad to see you too.” I told him and went and got his jacket and handed it to him.

As he took the jacket he reached up and patted my hand, “you know you are my favorite, don’t you?”

“I’m sure you say that to all of the girls.”

He winked and grinned, “Maybe, I’ll never tell.”

“So, have you greeted any ghosts you know lately?”

“You, know it’s funny that you asked that? Last night I had a couple of ghosts that didn’t just go away at my greetings. It really has me worried. Do you think you could double check my medications tonight. It really was strange, and it has me worried.”

“Oh, I’m sure you just got something that didn’t agree with you at dinner last night.”

“Now you’re dismissing me too, I must really becoming a nutter.”

“No, I promise I will double check your medication and your charts.”

After that, he went on with his stories and greetings, pleased that I would humor him. I did check and found his pills were off. They were not the right pills for his condition and the mixture was close to a lethal combination, for him. I spoke with his physician immediately and things were set right. Before I was questioned to closely; I really wanted to talk with Mr. McKinney again. I didn’t’ want to explain that I investigated, because he had ghosts that were hanging around, that would start a series of tests and services that I knew he did not need or want.

I had to ask him where he ever got the idea to greet the ghosts. That’s when he told me he got the idea form one of his favorite authors, Charles Dickens. The look on my face must have been very comical, because I know I have never heard him laugh that hard before.

“OK, Dear-heart, so I have taken his statement literally. What he said was ‘An idea, like a ghost, must be spoken to a little while before it will explain itself.’ I used the quote as a younger man to expand my idea’s. It helped me a number of times. So when I got older and started seeing ghosts I figured the shortest conversation is a passing greeting. Most of the time, I just deeply wished that they wouldn’t explain, cause seeing them’s bad, but to hear them too would be worse, far worse.”

I concocted a story about his heart acting erratically, instead of telling them about his ‘ghost theories’. He lived another ten years before he said that the ghosts were speaking to him, and he let me know that he knew, his time was almost up. He continued to greet the ghosts and no one noticed that his greetings were getting longer, except me.

When he told me he knew his time was near, I cried. He said that the ghost who had come to let me know was his wife. Her voice was something that he had not realized how much he missed until he heard her again. He did tell me to weep if I must, but not to pity him, to be happy for him because soon he would not have to carry on like a moron greeting ghosts to keep away death. He would be one of the ones who died to rest his weary soul, and his body would be worm dirt.

He smiled and patted my hand. “Now, you should find yourself a better job and a rich husband.”

The next time I went into work he was gone. I normally don’t go to patient funerals, but for him I made an exception. I gave my condolences to the family a few I had met at the home, but most I didn’t know. I found out he had been somebody, an author, a father a grandfather and a man of importance when he had been younger.

Yet I had only known him as ‘the man who greeted ghosts.’

Now as I help another person who is not able to help himself or herself I realize, I may be the only smile that they see. The bleakest place; the most horrible fate, is where no one cares, so I do.


Word count 1,025 Was written for the official contest on WDC - using Charles Dickens Quote that is found in this story. Contest was for October 2009.