Thanks to everyone who was concerned about me. I'm sorry, but I'm not really back to my old sweet self just yet, but I had to tell you guys about this one. It's sad, but what do you expect in a hospital, cotton candy?

The doctors have been telling me to get rest, so I can't confirm when this really took place. I might have even been dreaming. But I think I was awake, because I just got out of a really nice one about a deserted island and my toes being...never mind. The POINT is, I WAS asleep, but I heard something by my bed, so I started to wake up. My head's kind of iffy, so I couldn't tell who, but I saw someone standing next to me.

"Huh? Is that you, Willie?"

"Who's Willie?"

O.K., the voice was new, so I had to clear my head and rub my eyes before I could see straight. Who was standing by my bed was a REALLY cute guy, tall and lean, with these soft brown eyes, sexy lips, and smooth, velvety chocolate skin. (Yes, guys, I'll skip the rest, but he was good looking!) Needless to say, I was MORE than a little surprised, so I reverted to my natural wit and savior faire.

"Who the hell are you?

"I'm Myles. Glad to see you're finally awake. I've been meaning to talk to you."

"Why? Whatever it was, I SWEAR it was like that before I got there! I didn't take anything!"

"Damn. Pops always told me you chicks were nuts. Nah, girl, I want you to talk to someone for me."

Oh, right, I almost forgot. "Oh, you're a ghost, right?"

(rolls his eyes) "Glad you finally joined in on the conversation. I was hoping this wouldn't take all night"

"Give me a fucking break, all right? I've kind of been through a lot recently. I'm not exactly customer service, you know."

"Know what? Forget it. This is just wastin' my damn time."

"Wait! I'm sorry. Look, I'll help you, all right? What did you want me to do?"

"Finally. I need you to talk to my grandpa for me, could ya? I want to tell him somethin' before it's too late."

"All right. What?"

"Tell him I'm sorry."

...........

"I might need a little more than that, actually."

"You were expectin' a life story or somethin'?"

"Actually, I just assumed all ghosts like telling their life stories. I don't know why, it's just this thing about them or something."

"Whatever. You're crazy, but at least you're trying to help. My grandpa raised me since I was 7. He was real cool, you know? He even taught me how to play the trumpet, like Miles Davis. You DO know who THAT is, right?"

Sheesh, get an attitude with one ghost, he thinks you're an idiot! "Yeah, I've heard his music. Some pretty funky stuff."

"I saw the man play. Newport Jass Festival. I wanted to play just like him, and grandpa even bought me a trumpet just like his. I could still play, if I wasn't, you know."

"I get the idea, yeah. So what happened? You start running with the wrong crowd, or something? Gang related?"

"Huh? Oh, it's cause I'm black, now I gotta be in a gang, huh?"

"No, no, I was just...nevermind. I'm sorry. Just get to what happened already, okay?"

"What HAPPENED was I got a job and bought a motorcycle. Grandpa just went nuts over that. He SWORE up and down I was NEVER gettin' my ass on that thing! But I wanted to ride, and he wasn't about to get in my way if I didn't want him to. So, I cussed him out over it, ran out, and hit the road on my bike. MAN! That ride was SWEET! Once I hit the highway, that freedom was so good, I never even thought about grandpa once."

"Oh, NOW I see where this is going. Crash and burn, and you're Mr. No Body, right?"

"Let's just say that the last thing goin' through my head was a flying piece of broken tire. Headless horseman ain't got nothin' on me, baby!"

"So, where's your grandpa now?"

"Right now? Down the hall, preparing for a bypass. I tried talking to him, but he's not hearing me, you know? I thought you could just talk to him before he goes, then he'd probably make it through better."

"That's so sweet. I'll go right now."

"Nah, hold up, girl. You really do look messed up. He's not going in till noon, so you got plenty of time. get some more rest, you take care of yourself first, ok?"

Actually, my throat was really starting to hurt from the talking, so I mouthed the work "thanks" to him. He kind of half-smiled and left. After that, I just ended up sleeping it off.

Well, I (eventually) found Myles's grandpa. Not that it was all that easy, mind you, and it took a damn long time to do it, but he was still in his room by the time I got there. He looked really out of it, though, and I REALLY hated to try to wake him up, but I knew it was important, so I just did the best I could. He was kind of groggy, and most likely didn't see me clearly.

"That other nurse just took care of the pills, ain't no reason why you're here."

"No, I'm not a nurse. Look, this is going to sound kind of strange, but I need to talk to you about your grandson."

"Myles? What you want with him? Been gone a year now, so you got no business with him anymore."

"I know this is odd, but I talked to him last night. He wanted me to tell you something."

"How do I know you ain't just trying to fool an old man?"

Well, this part was familiar, at least. "You like Miles Davis. That's who your grandson was named after, right? You took him to the Newport Jazz Festival, and he wanted to play the trumpet. You taught him. Sound like I'm fooling you, pal?"

Well, that got his attention. I think he almost started crying. "My boy. My baby boy. That's him, all right. So, what do you got to say to me about him."

"He told me to tell you he's sorry. You were right about that bike of his. I...I don't think he wanted to hurt you. He loves you too much. But he never got a chance to tell you that, and..."

God, I hate talking lately.

The poor guy really was crying now. He just looked so sad, it broke my heart. I know he never wanted the last thing he said to be some stupid argument. He's probably spent the last year killing himself for that one fight. I bet he thinks it's all his fault, too. And Myles thinks the same way.

I couldn't think of anything else to say, so I kind of slipped out when he wasn't looking. Backwards, which means that I ended up running into the nurse, who promptly escorted me back to my room. She checked on my throat, chided me for too much stress on it, and gave me a mild sedative.

I woke up feeling a lot better, actually. My throat didn't hurt, and my head wasn't giving me any problems. Old nursie came back and asked about how I'm feeling, took my blood pressure, etc. I asked her about the guy who's room she found me sneaking out of earlier.

"You mean Mr. Sampson? Why do you ask?"

"Just professional curiosity, I guess. How's he doing?"

"I'm sorry, sweetie, but he's no longer with us."

"He checked out that soon after his operation?"

"Um, no dear, I mean he's gone."

Just like that. He died thinking that he drove his grandson away, his grandson died thinking he hurt his grandpa forever. I hope they find each other and tell how they really feel, cause it's not like they've got anyplace to be soon. Sorry, but I'm a little down right now. I think if anyone reads this, the one thing they should get from it is that the people you know don't stay here forever. You'll end up feeling regrets all your life, but if you do one thing that could prevent it, do it. If the last thing you want someone to know is how you feel about them, say it. Don't let something petty come between you and someone you care about. It's not worth it, and the hurt you'll feel is way too painful afterwards if you don't. Sometimes, it's more important to be with the ones who are still living. Sometimes, the dead can wait.

concrete_Angel wrote:He died thinking that he drove his grandson away, his grandson died thinking he hurt his grandpa forever. I hope they find each other and tell how they really feel, cause it's not like they've got anyplace to be soon. Sorry, but I'm a little down right now. I think if anyone reads this, the one thing they should get from it is that the people you know don't stay here forever. You'll end up feeling regrets all your life, but if you do one thing that could prevent it, do it. If the last thing you want someone to know is how you feel about them, say it. Don't let something petty come between you and someone you care about. It's not worth it, and the hurt you'll feel is way too painful afterwards if you don't. Sometimes, it's more important to be with the ones who are still living. Sometimes, the dead can wait.

I’m sorry you had to go through that, Susan. It must be difficult to be the bearer of bad tidings . . . but we can’t think of it in that way. On the other hand, there’s no greater feeling than being a comfort to those who have no comfort. You helped reunite the love of a grandfather and a grandson. You were the link that set up the grounds for them to see each other and make amends. Sometimes, the only thing keeping us on this side of the mortal coil is unfinished business.

Ei's right... I think you helped Myles' grandfather out a lot, no matter how it seems to you right now. As messed up as it seems, sometimes people stay alive because of bad things... Hate and anger can motivate a person to live just as strongly as love and joy can...perhaps more, since love and joy can make a person feel more whole, and more at peace. It is quite possible that he's been living because of the regret, and you helped ease it.

Or maybe it was just his time, and Myles was trying to get you to talk to him before it was too late.

Any which way I look at it, you most assuredly did the right thing, and you did more help than harm. I wish I could say that helping people always makes you feel good, and that it doesn't have to hurt, but...that's the way the world--and the universe, too--is. There are many things that are seemingly unnecessarily cold and harsh.

It's our job to shine our candles into those dark, cold recesses and bring what light and warmth we can.

Just don't ever lose it Angel, and most definately don't let anyone take it away.