Mum just wont go away
Weve just gone through a huge loss my mums sister passed away. She didnt have a husband, but she left behind her fouryearold daughter, Ethel. My husband and I stepped in to look after her. The moment the little girl learned her mum was gone, she shut herself off completely and stopped leaving the house. She even refused to move anywhere, so my husband and I moved into the flat where she and her mum had been living. We thought that after the funeral shed agree to move in with us, but staying there became unbearable. At night the water would flick on and off on its own, the lights did the same, doors and floors creaked as if someone was constantly sprinting from room to room. I tried to bless the place, but it didnt help at all.
One night, as usual, I couldnt sleep while my husband was already snoring away. I heard a whisper coming from Ethels room. It gave me an odd, chilling feeling, but I didnt wake my husband. I switched on the light quietly, tiptoed to her door and listened. All I could hear was my little girls voice.
I dont want to sleep, I want to play with Katie (thats my doll). Ill play a bit longer and then Ill lie down.
I opened the door and she was huddled in a corner behind the wardrobe, clutching her doll, eyes wide with fear. She peeked out as if I were a stranger.
Ethel, who were you talking to just now? I asked.
Momma, she replied.
A shiver ran down my spine. I tucked her into bed, curled up next to my husband and soon drifted off. Over the next week the girl kept on chatting with someone, and I brushed it off as stress shed lost her mum, after all, and a child can imagine all sorts of things. The flat kept testing my patience.
One afternoon I was making lunch and kept calling Ethel to eat, but she shouted that she wasnt hungry. Shed always been a picky eater, so coaxing her at the table was a battle. Her mum had been, to put it mildly, impatient, and would have dragged her by the arm to sit down. By the time Id called her for the tenth time, I heard a terrible crash and a sob. I bolted into the room and saw something I cant explain: a huge sliding wardrobe had toppled over onto the little girl. Luckily it didnt crush her it brushed the bed and left a gap between it and the floor. Ethel was terrified and spent the rest of the day in a fullblown hysteria.
That night I heard her crying again, begging for forgiveness. I went in to comfort her; she clambered onto my lap and hugged me tightly, staring at the same corner of the room as if someone were standing there, eyes wide with fear.
Ethel, whos there? I asked.
Momma she whispered.
Sweetheart, tell your mum youre letting her go and that she should leave.
Momma doesnt want to leave! she said.
On the fortieth day after the funeral, Ethel and I went to the grave, laid flowers and handed out sweets to the local children so they could remember her. Everything finally settled. We sold the flat, brought Ethel to live with us, and the house finally felt like a home again.
