100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2025. #97. Kalei.

 I lay on my side, the finely manicured grass my comfort, while I watch him discover the wonder of everything around him.

The blades of grass that he bunches up in his little hands are effortlessly resting away from the dirt. Wiping the grass from his hands, he's now more interested in the dirt. It's beautiful to watch until his curiosity makes him put his hands to his mouth; then I have to redirect him. I suddenly realize that I've been smiling the whole time. Seeing him this way brings a natural joy to my heart, radiating through my entire being. With such innocent beauty, how could anyone not smile? While caught in my revelry, I'm entirely taken aback when he pushes himself up and stands on his own two feet, and begins walking toward me. I sit up, prepared to receive him into my arms as he stumbles toward me. I'm sure that I'm crying as well as laughing. My arms are ready to hold him to the sky, as if congratulating him for an astounding achievement, but also to show him off to the gods to let them know that he is mine, my beautifully perfect grandson. It's seven clean steps he takes one after the other until he collapses into my arms and goes right through me. There's enough cushion on the grass that he lands with a soft thud. Still, falling on your face is never a pleasant experience. Looking back toward the house, I begin yelling for my daughter.

"Kalei! Kalei! The baby fell down! Kalei!" Damned her! From where I'm standing, I can see that she's on the phone. My grandson begins crying at the top of his lungs. Good, good, my little boy. Louder, so your mother can hear you! Here she comes, dashing out of the kitchen at full tilt. "What are you doing on that damned phone!" I scold her.

"What happened, my baby?" She coos and comforts him as she picks him up in her arms, holding him tight. Calming him down.

"He took his first steps and you missed it!" Still scolding her even though she can't see me or hear a word I'm saying. "Kalei, you have to be more attentive and keep him closer."

Of course, she can't hear me, but I hope she can feel my worry, my concern, and my love for my grandson. He's everything that matters in this world, and nothing else should. "If your tūtū were here, he'd scold me and tell me I need to pay more attention," she whispers to the baby while carrying him back into the kitchen. "I shouldn't have been on the phone my baby, mama's sorry."

She cleans him up with hand wipes and sets him in his high chair for a snack. It's poi, it's the same thing I would feed her for her snack time until she had teeth, then I'd add in cheese sticks. "Later on, when your teeth come in, Mama will give you cheese sticks."

She's smiling to herself for some reason. "Your Tūtū Kāne fed me the same thing when I was your age."

I'm smiling too. Maybe I was too hard on her growing up because I wanted to make sure she could survive in this world, especially as a Hawaiian woman. I thought it was all lost on her once she moved out on her own, but clearly I'm wrong. After I passed, I made sure the house on our property was deeded to her. Kalei has done well after all, better than I expected. I passed before the birth of my grandson, but I'll be here for the rest of his life.