text: It happened every Christmas. The entire family descended on Grandma’s house, having the whole big traditional family shindig. Christmas dinner, gift exchange, the whole thing. And nearly every year, someone would ask Grandma to tell her story. THE story. The time she saw Grandpa’s ghost. It always went the same way: “Well, I’m here to tell ya, I don’t care what anybody says, ghosts are real, and I know it ‘cause I’ve seen one with my own two eyes. I was right here on this couch, watchin’ TV one night, late, and I heard somebody say my name- But they didn’t say Kate, like most people- They said ‘Celestine’. And only one person on this Earth ever called me by my first name, and that was Jim. So I turned and looked down the hall- and I swear by all that’s holy this is true, if I’m lyin’ I’m flyin’- there stood Jim, just exactly the way he looked the day he died, wearin’ his best suit just like I buried him in. And I just know that was him lettin’ me know he was ok.” What happened next was unclear. Sometimes Grandma described it as him “fading away”, other times she said he stared at her like he was surprised she could hear him, and he just stared at her till she blinked and he was gone. Either way, Grandma was absolutely, 100% positive she had seen her dead husband Jim- who had died on his 25th birthday, leaving her alone with 3 small children- just a few days after his own funeral. Most of the family believed Grandma had nodded off and had a dream, or maybe just saw a reflection from the hallway mirror or something like that, but there were a few- just a few- who believed she just might have caught a glimpse of something else. One of those people who believed was her grandson James. James had been named after his grandpa, his mother’s father, and everyone said he was the spitting image of him. James had always been a favorite of his Grandma, and he’d been with her when she passed after a long illness. She’d finally joined her beloved Jim, the only man she’d ever loved, after 50 years. James was asked to help clean out Grandma’s house- the same house his mother had grown up in, the house Grandpa Jim bought for her in 1962, when they’d first gotten married. Grandma didn’t have much in the way of possessions, it was mostly cheap old furniture and old lady knick-knacks. The day of her funeral, on the way to the cemetery, James and his best friend Ronnie went by the house to take a look and see what still needed to be done. The house was largely empty already. His grandmother hadn’t lived here for years, instead being cared for in a nursing home and, ultimately, a hospice. Her passing hadn’t been sudden, and the family had long ago removed anything valuable from the house. “I think we can get this with my dad’s flatbed truck” Ronnie said, indicating the big old dining room table around which they’d eaten so many Christmas dinners. James nodded his agreement. “You think they’re going to be able to sell this house?” Ronnie asked. “I don’t know. Neighborhood isn’t what it used to be.” James acknowledged, looking through the mostly empty cabinets. “Probably can rent it out or something. Kinda sad. But nobody in the family really wants the place.” “Yea” Ronnie conceded, opening the refrigerator. James stepped into the hallway, examining one of the few remaining pictures. It was Grandma and Grandpa, probably in the early 60s. He’d seen the picture many times, every time he’d been here. But he’d never really stopped to consider exactly how much he really did look just like Grandpa Jim. In fact, James thought, he was probably the same age Grandpa Jim was in that picture. “Hey, didn’t you say your Grandma had some kinda really weird first name?,” Ronnie asked, “Like Sistine or something?” “Celestine” James responded without thinking. Then something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. He thought something moved in the living room down the hall. He turned to face it, and there was a young woman, a girl really, seated on the end of the couch, where his Grandma had always sat, looking at him with wide, red rimmed eyes. James started to say something, then stopped. There was something familiar about the woman... Ronnie said something and James blinked his eyes rapidly, then realized the woman was no longer there. He stepped into the kitchen, leaning heavily on the counter. Ronnie, seeing something was wrong, walked over to James. “You ok man?” James shook his head. “Ronnie, do you remember the story I told you? About my Grandma seeing my Grandpa Jim, years ago? How he called her name, and she saw him standing in the hallway wearing a suit?” Ronnie nodded. James looked down at his black funeral suit. “I don’t think it was my Grandpa that she saw.