A Ripple in Time … Finale

The causes of every human action are so manifold, so complex,
and so deeply hidden in unconscious motivations that it
is impossible to know why anything ever happens.
—Leo Tolstoy

I invited my so-called ghost to tea—the lovely wraith who's been appearing among my roses.

It turns out my mystery woman is not a ghost, although my visions of her were certainly ghostly.

Neither of us can figure out why or how I was having visions of her in the garden before she actually visited my house.

“Maybe you’re a sensitive,” she suggested.

“You mean I see into the spirit realm?”

“It’s possible. On those occasions when I was picturing myself back here at grandma’s cottage, maybe you were able to somehow intuit my presence.”

I stopped and thought about it. It certainly seemed reasonable.

Rosemary was going back in her mind to a previous time when she was happy.

In a way, she was time travelling—we all do it when we mentally recall the past. Maybe her visualization was so intense that she actually relived it and even materialized in the very place she loved so much.

She stayed on that day and we talked. We’ve been talking ever since.

I’m hoping the same affection she feels for the cottage and the lake spills over onto me—that she sees me as a pleasant memory that she not only revisits but carries into her future.

Somehow, I feel this was all fated to be.

I might be being impossibly romantic, but even Bob, my psychiatrist friend, is being caught up in the mystery of our romance.

“She’s a fetch,” he laughs.

“You mean a catch?” I attempt to correct him.

“No, I mean a fetch—an exact, spectral double of a living human.”

We're sitting in The Arts and Letters Club as we were a month before when Bob gave me all sorts of rational explanations to account for my ‘wraith’.

I look at him suspiciously. “Hey, aren’t you supposed to be a scientist—and skeptical of these things?”

He simply shrugs. “Jung had all kinds of paranormal experiences—even saw ghosts. His exploration of the psyche took him deep into the world of religion, myth and the paranormal.”

“So, what are you saying—that Rosemary and I were somehow fated to meet?”

“I’m saying she may have reached out, searching for meaning—for something familiar she could grasp onto—and maybe what she found that was your hand.”

I’ve been giving some thought to what Bob said—turning things over in my head.

I’m not sure I see the same shadows on the cave of the psyche that Jung did, or interpret them the same way.

Maybe my head’s being held at a different angle and I’m chained down to a different set of beliefs, but when Bob said Rosemary reached out for my hand, it touched me—and not long after, I asked for her hand in marriage.

Was this synchronicity or an active imagination? I have no idea.

All I know is I’ve found my soul mate and together, Rosemary and I are, dreaming the dream onward—at least that's the best explanation I can offer for what turned out to be the most unique experiences of my life.

© 2019, John J Geddes. All rights reserved

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