Did My Mother See Apparitions, Angels, Flashbacks or Ghosts?

"She spent those weeks addressing persons only she could see. At nearly six feet tall but 78 pounds, this wizened reed who spent my childhood cussing at herself in mirrors and teaching me, by example and instruction, how to hate myself now chatted brightly into what most would call empty space. Over the hum of medical machines, facing away as if I wasn't there, she queried, nodded, winked, and waved."

""Did you have lunch? Was it Chinese?" "She went right up to the North Pole." "Max, which bread is best?" "Joe, you have a midget dog." Often she waved a hand as if in greeting or goodbye, or gestured widely as if serving food. Meanwhile, she never looked at me. It's as if I, not those she addressed and whose names she chortled, was invisible."

An adult daughter spends her mother's last weeks at hospital and a care home, alone with her except for drifting staff. The mother, nearly six feet tall but weighing 78 pounds, had a lifelong pattern of depression, anorexia, terror, insomnia, untreated despair, and operated a gift shop that brought her joy. During her final days she spoke constantly to unseen people, smiling and laughing while often not acknowledging her daughter. The mother alternated between addressing imagined companions and gesturing as if serving food. Memories of a harsh, accusing parent contrast with the unexpected brightness of those final interactions.

Read at Psychology Today