I See Dead People

A couple of weeks before I was scheduled to leave for Maine, my son Brad asked me if there was anything in particular I would like to see or do during my visit. I didn't even have to think twice about my answer as I quickly said, "I want to see a lighthouse." And when Brad told me there were at least two lighthouses just a few miles from where he and Shelby live, I was so excited I came dangerously close to peeing my pants. Over the next few days, Brad asked me several more times if I had any special requests on how I wanted to spend my time in Maine, and each time, my reply was the same ... "I want to see a lighthouse. Like a real lighthouse. Up close. Not from far away. I just want to see a lighthouse." The funny thing is ... I don't remember putting "see a lighthouse up close and personal" on my bucket list of items I absolutely had to see before I die. I have no clue as to why, but all of a sudden, the number one thing I wanted to do while I was in Maine was to see a lighthouse. In fact, my overwhelming desire to see one of the structures that has stood guard over ships and boats against the rocky coastline for centuries even trumped my desire to eat fresh lobster, and that, my friends, is saying a whole heck of a lot about how very badly I wanted to see a lighthouse.

Due to the super cold temps and the foot of snow that was on the ground when I first arrived, it was a couple of days before the weather allowed Brad and I to make the trek to the Owl's Head lighthouse that resides only a few miles from his house. As Brad drove along the coast toward our destination, he told me of the legend surrounding the particular beacon we were on our way to visit. It's a tale that sent shivers running up and down my spine ... a tale of lovers frozen in a block of ice, of a dog who could see the ships through the fog, of ghosts and spirits who refuse to leave their posts even several hundred years later. Brad told me of the loyal and faithful keepers of the light ... men who risked their very lives to protect the lives of sailors they would never meet. By the time we arrived at the lighthouse, I was more than just a little creeped out ... I mean, seriously ... my son spends a half-hour recounting tales of ghostly footprints that appear in the snow and of lifeless bodies ascending the long wooden staircase ... of course I was creeped out. You can bet your life that the hairs on the back of my neck were standing at attention as we carefully made our way up the wooded path that led to the Owl's Head lighthouse ... the sound of the ocean waves crashing against the rocks below muffled only by the pounding of my heart inside my chest. 

I hate to disappoint you, but I didn't encounter any ghosts or see any dead people on my lighthouse adventure with my son that day. I did, however, stand upon the same ground that the keepers of the light stood upon all those centuries ago. I did, however, climb the same stairs that were climbed by men and women who devoted their entire lives to saving the lives of others. I did, however, gaze across the same ocean that sailors sailed upon during the Revolutionary War. I did, however, spend one of the most incredible days of my life with my son ... I listened to his voice ... I marveled at his knowledge ... I appreciated his patience ... I respected his courage. I saw my son's heart that day, friends ... I saw his heart and I understood the bond between us as I never had before. I didn't see dead people that day ... I saw something way, way, way better. That day, I saw love. I saw love and the most haunted lighthouse in the U.S. ... on the same day. A mom couldn't wish for anything more, friends ... it just doesn't get any better than that ... it certainly doesn't get any better than that.