Snifter of Exorcism tale

LETTING GO OF YOUR PARTNER
Taking the Ted out of haunted

Can you let go of your ex-partner emotionally after the break? Are you hanging on to the way of life that you had with them? Speculating if they are watching football or tennis? Wondering if they are cooking their spaghetti with white or red wine sauce this time? Is their memory haunting you and are you allowing it into your home, to sit with you on the couch or watch you in the shower? If so, it’s part of not letting them go.

The Tale of Vanessa

It was a cold and dreary night. The wind was rapping on the door like an unwelcome salesman who had forgotten his samples in a stranger’s living room. The rain fell light and rhythmically, releasing generous drops on and around the home, like wet flakes in a snow globe. An eerie whistling was heard; the sound of the wind letting itself in, uninvited through the windows, trying to attract the attention of Vanessa who was sitting on the couch. As she sat, she was aware of a ghostly presence in her home, but she was ignoring it, because Halloween was still two months away.

She was watching Ted’s favorite detective program on the TV
and she suddenly solved the crime of “Who done It?”
Turning to Ted, she exclaimed, “It was the realtor’s wife!”

But Ted had left her three weeks ago and with his
detective-solving skills at a minimum, he wouldn’t know
who’d done it until he watched the following week’s episode.

In her excitement at solving the mystery, Nessa had temporarily forgotten that Ted had moved out. She was used to having him around almost all of the time, but now her way of life had been split down the middle, like a corpse on the autopsy table. The tether of Ted’s companionship had been cut. All that was left of him in their ex-marital apartment was some ectoplasm floating around in the attic and a coffee stain on the good tablecloth. Yet he was living in her mind like a phantom squatter.

Ted was the furthest thing from her mind as she drove to the bank the next day, humming his favorite song. Making a left turn on Leni Street, she happened to glance down at the steering wheel and noticed she was wearing her wedding ring. “That’s very strange,” she said to herself. Strange indeed, as she had removed it three weeks ago and put it away in a drawer when Ted had left. Could the ghost of Ted have gone into that drawer, taken out the ring and slipped it onto her finger when she wasn’t looking? It couldn’t be possible. It wasn’t as though she had subconsciously done it herself. Or had she…?

The following afternoon, while hanging her clean laundry in the closet and reminding herself that Ted always liked the color green, she noticed a most peculiar thing. Her clothes were no longer spread out on the rack, but were all bunched up together on one side. She stopped what she was doing and stared, chewing thoughtfully on Ted’s favorite gum. “What’s going on?” she asked out loud. Why was Ted’s side of the closet suddenly left open for him? His clothes were no longer there because he had taken them all, and up until then she had been utilizing that space for her own clothes. But now all of her things were back at her end again. She peered into the closet and half-expected to see something hiding in there, perhaps a squat, squeaking gremlin or a specter with an armload of clothes. “Nothing!” she said, closing the door.

Some heavy thinking followed while she made herself a cup of Ted’s much-loved flavored coffee and that was when she decided that a poltergeist must be living in the apartment. That’s why things kept being moved around. Or was she unwittingly making sure there was always room for Ted and his belongings? Fueled by her doubts and the newness of being alone still scratching at her skin, the hauntings continued.

Later on that week, while wearing an old t-shirt of Ted’s she had found under the bed and working on a crossword puzzle of his from August, she was suddenly aware of the smell of his cologne. The scent caused her to write tedcover on the puzzle, instead of bedcover, and as she paused, pen in hand, she sniffed the air as a beagle would if it were on the scent of a small rodent, only in a more feminine way. Where was it coming from? As quickly as it came, it disappeared, as if the air had sucked it away. Had she really smelled it or was she mistaken? It wasn’t as though she were still thinking about Ted, she reasoned. In fact, she believed she hardly thought about him at all.

Unable to come to terms with the strange events around the place, she called her mother. As a voice on the other end of the phone said, “Hello,” she felt an icy finger drawing a circle on her back, then poking it in the center with cold, hard doubt. She pushed it away, but it was only her imagination giving her chills.
“Hello?” said Ted again. She pulled herself together.
“What are you doing at my mother’s house?” she asked him, nervously tugging at her hair. There was a pause.
“Ted?”
“I’m not at your mother’s house,” he responded slowly, wondering if she had been dipping into the cooking sherry. “I’m at home. You must have dialed my home number by mistake.” It suddenly hit her. Her whole body was being controlled by an outside force, and its name was Habit. Ted was gone, but she was so used to being around him, that she kept forgetting they weren’t together anymore. At one time he lived in her home, but now he only lived in her head. And he wouldn’t leave. She couldn’t stop thinking about him and she hadn’t even realized it.

Allowed the run of the home, the ghost of Ted continued to lurk in every room. It was in the CD player when she often found herself listening to his music and wondering why she didn’t play something she liked.

 It slept in her toaster where she burnt her toast these days, just the way Ted liked it. It was in the jar of peanut butter where the accidental jelly hid inside, red eyes looking out at her and mocking her, because she never spilled jelly into the peanut butter, but Ted always did. Desperate actions needed to be taken and his ghost had to be removed from their once-shared home. Should she hire an exorcist to purge the ghost or should she take gingko, to improve her memory, and to remind her that Ted had moved out? Hmmm, exorcism or herbs? It was a close call.

But why was she still being haunted by Ted? It was true he was still in her head and yes, in her heart. But whatever the reason, it had to stop. Maybe Ted was haunting her because the apartment had so many memories of him. Wherever she looked, she imagined she caught glimpses of him. He was sitting in the armchair with his coffee on the end table, and his imaginary slippers were under the couch. What could be done to remove these recollections? Perhaps she should move somewhere else, but she couldn’t afford to do that. Maybe an overhaul of the décor would help distract her. If it looked different from when Ted lived there, the visions of him sitting here and resting there would be gone. If the couch was moved she wouldn’t imagine his newspaper there, turned to the crossword puzzle page. If the table replaced the armchair, she couldn’t picture him sitting in the chair. It would be a transformation for both the body and the mind. The task at hand was to make some drastic changes to the layout of her home and just like the new sheriff in town, she was the one to make them.

Tedless Feng Shui became a priority and Nessa decided to make the rooms look different by moving the furniture around. The tall lamp and high-backed chair did a two-step with the couch and they traded places.

 The table resentfully switched its corner with the armchair. It didn’t quite fit into the smaller space and you could tell it wasn’t happy there, standing at a bit of an angle. But once everything was done, it looked very different, almost like someone else’s home.

It took a little while for Nessa to be reminded that Ted was gone and it was achieved by a sequential number of stages. Step 1: She still forgetfully called out from the kitchen to ask him what he wanted to eat. Of course there was always no answer. Not unusual anymore. Step 2: She walked from the kitchen into the living room to look for him. Step 3: She would get whacked on the kneecap by the ever-vengeful table. Step 4: While rubbing her kneecap she remembered Ted wasn’t there anymore. By week two, she was limping from cuts and bruises on her knees, shins and ankles, but she was smiling because Ted’s ghost seemed to be fading.

The next task was to exorcise the ghost completely and she burned, hid, discarded or unplugged anything that reminded her of Ted. Along with changing the way her home looked, she also changed her appearance from a matronly Nessa to a sexy and bruised Nessa. Now the transformation of her single life was complete. Ted’s ghost had been exorcised by changing Nessa’s surroundings, helped along with a little gingko. Nessa was no longer possessed by a ghost.

Comment

It’s possible that these types of home hauntings were the inspiration for Hollywood moviemakers, giving them the notion for horror films. They used chilling music to give it greater impact and if you want to encourage the haunting memory of your ex, you too could add music. Classical piano or harpsichord is usually the best, or something religious.

Eliminating memories can put you on the road to healing. It’s difficult to wipe them out of your mind, but making visual changes can remove the ones you see all around you. The memory of your ex might be wrapped around your mind like mating vipers and equally as dangerous, but often you need to make a determined effort to exterminate them. Once the thoughts of your ex and the habit of them is broken, you may say to yourself with a sigh of relief, “Aaaaaah. Thank goodness this won’t end with a dead bat in the attic and drops of ram’s blood on the new beige carpet. It’s so hard to get blood out of beige. I was freed just in the nick of time!”

Excerpt from the book Breakup Cocktail: 5 Parts Humor, 1 Part Healing and a Twist of Revenge from Barbara Kingsley Singer
Breakup Cocktail book contains about 60 Tales including this one, but without illustrations
Click here to buy now on Amazon.com
Copyright© 2012 Barbara Kingsley Singer