Evan Ho: Grandparents' Visit

When items are mysteriously moved around his house, Evan Ho questions if there is a supernatural connection.

I discovered an unused Swiffer pad resting on top of my kitchen trash can. That’s strange, I thought. Why was that there? I asked the others in my house, including my mother, who was visiting, if they were cleaning floors recently. No, they said. Hmm, how odd.

Two days later, while my morning coffee was brewing, a shiny round object on the kitchen table caught my eye. Curious, I picked it up and inspected it. It was an ancient Chinese coin, one of those with character inscriptions and a square hole in the middle. Now, why was this thing here? I asked my family members about it. No clue, they responded. Okay, very odd.

Just before these two random incidents, I had taken my mother to the cemetery where her parents –my grandparents—are at rest. Tranquility spread across those expansive grounds, at least as far as my mortal human senses could detect. I imagined thousands of souls lying in contented or resigned repose.

Or maybe not. Maybe that wasn’t the case with my grandparents that day. Did they stir and then follow us back to my house? Did they ride in the back seat on our return trip?

Who knows these things – the workings of the afterlife. I personally believe a dearly departed can have active presence. I have witnessed the supernatural and have heard enough of others’ stories to accept these mysteries as realities. My superstitious mother thought the unexplained appearances of the items were not out of the ordinary at all. In fact, she spoke to the floor wipe as if communicating with her parents. It was a comical and strange scene.

But isn’t life itself absurd and strange sometimes? Where is the dividing line between normal and paranormal? And was there a message that my grandparents were trying to convey by leaving those particular objects?

So many questions.

Here’s one for you, dear grandparents, if you are listening: Do you wish to return to your resting place? If so, give me a sign. Open my garage door or turn on my car engine. I’ll take you back right away. We appreciate your visit—and the comfort knowing you are not gone forever.

With a Perspective, I’m Evan Ho.

Evan Ho works at a Bay Area university.