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I look from my bed up at the fox painting she painted, wondering what she was thinking while painting it. Blue and white stripes, brown and black stripes. It has always been there, haunting me. The fox. It has always been there, like her. I think about her a lot, which makes me wonder if she does, too.
Some people think of ghosts as floating creatures and some don’t even believe in them but for me, a ghost is a person. A person who I have never spoken to face to face but someone who I speak to every day. A person who is always there for me when I need to talk. A person who I see and who guides me. My grandma. Madeline Hay-Butler.
I have always been told by my mum that I remind her of Madeline. At first, I didn’t understand why but now I am starting to see her in myself. Her green eyes, blond hair, creativity, kindness, and smile. Qualities that I know she has and I believe I do too. An artist, a fighter, and a brave woman.
It’s strange how someone so far but yet so close can have such a big impact on my life. She sacrificed everything for her two children who have a massive effect on my life. My mum and my aunt. I feel her presence through them. All the stories and memories I’ve heard make me feel closer to her. The things she did for them. Taking them out around London to museums, parks, and art galleries. Christmas was very important to her. She used to decorate the house with decorations and play Christmas music. My mum now does it for us and it’s a very emotional time because it’s when we think of her the most.
She has guided me through life’s most challenging times. When my parents divorced. When all my friends left. When I had no one to talk to but her.
Sometimes the farthest people from you are the closest. My grandma. Madeline Hay-Butler. My ghost. My guardian. My angel.
This piece was selected as one of the winners of the AAA’s AnthroDay Student Unessay Competition. This year’s competition was inspired by the Annual Meeting theme, “Ghosts.”