Angel, soul or spirit guide,
these titles are so weighted with history,
myth-sodden religiosity
or just woolly thinking,
that were I to use them,
I might lose you.
You, the open enquirer, truth seeker
with one hand on the facts,
the other buried deep inside your chest:
warm, bloody and pulsing.
But as it doesn't matter if you believe, nor even,
'believe that I believe',
I will choose angel
to invoke the translucent, androgynous being
floating in a space where blank wall should be.
No halo, nor feathers on this one,
no orbs of abstract light -
a clear, well defined face, youthful,
(radiant, serene, if you wish to colour it),
eyes directed downwards, mouth closed -
expressionless.
To the right, and slightly to the foreground,
a second glowing figure,
my late grandmother, recognisable -
but not from any other photo I recall.
Their silent communion of
the instant and intransient -
captured on a Polaroid
touched by accident, coincidence, love.
I wanted to show it to the world… 
we placed it behind a larger frame,
my mother and I.
It was lost amidst the collapse of sudden death -
amongst things, possessions -
auctioned off, passed on
or those that simply slip away
in transition
between one place and the next.
Now, I guess, I'm the only one alive who has seen it.
No matter, it existed
and still serves, in some small part, as my fulcrum:
a tiny shred of evidence, pointing god knows where,
balancing
belief and disbelief, heart and brain,
angel and triple exposure.

Background:   At the time, my mother and I were sharing a house.  On the day in question, my mother spent the morning alone.  For some reason, fond memories of her dead mother (my grandmother) were on her mind.  During her tidying she picked up our old Instamatic Polaroid camera, something we hadn't used for years (but had always remained in our possession).  Pressing the button, half by accident, she was surprised to see that there was still film in it.  She hadn't aimed the camera at anything specific and the photo that emerged showed the living room wall (a blank wall, painted white - no patterns, no wallpaper) and the side of the settee.  From the angle that it was taken, these are the only elements that should have been in the photo, but instead there were two figures, as described in the poem. 

The photo was taken in clear daylight, there was an absence of shadows and there were no other abstract marks, flared lighting etc.  The two figures were very well defined despite appearing to be translucent rather than solid. 

My mother pointed out the resemblance to my gran of one of the figures.  My gran had died long before the photo was taken and I don't believe there were any photos of her taken with that particular camera.  The only photos of her that my mother owned were a few very old black and white ones, none of which were the image I saw in the polaroid. 

Other than the two figures there were no other unusual details as you might expect from a double exposure (two superimposed backgrounds for example).   My mother was obviously curious and interested by the photo, but other than showing me, she made little of it.  After she placed it behind a picture frame, for safe keeping, we rarely mentioned it again. 

Hypotheses / explanations:

'The total cynic hypothesis' / 'You made it all up / faked it'. 

Not much I can say to this, other than I 100% reject it.  If it helps, I swear on my own life and my mother's memory that I have described an actual occurrence, without conscious embellishment and as close to my memory as possible.  Regarding faking the photo, I swear against this as well.  It doesn't seem a rational explanation anyway: firstly, where is the motive? Secondly, neither of us had the practical or technical skill to do it.   As for someone else stealing the camera, finding an image of my gran that neither of us had ever seen, faking the photo, then replacing the camera…

'The pub bore hypothesis'/'You heavily embellished it over time'   See above.

Before this poem, I had only mentioned it to a handful of people.  I'm not the sort of person who sits at the bar endlessly recounting the same old stories, nor have I been keen on repeating this one to anyone I do not trust, respect and believe would be interested. 

You might argue that this poem/posting counters that.  I thought long and hard about whether or not to post it, what was the point?  I suppose the relative anonymity of the site allowed it.  It is, in a sense, a way of sharing the memory without any real repercussion.  A part of me 'wanted to show it to the world', but without cheapening the memory.  I hope the poem's good enough for that.

'The Illusion hypothesis' / 'Your eyes deceived you' 

This would probably be the sceptical psychologist's preferred line of attack.  The human brain has evolved to recognise familiar patterns such as faces, and it's true that we often see faces in such things as swirls of smoke, clouds, patterned wallpaper etc.  Personally, I reject this one 100%.  I know what I saw - two clearly defined faces, not an abstract blur that 'might be a face'.  Also, even supposing the faces were not clearly defined (which they were) it pushes the coincidence factor: one face could possibly pass as illusion…two faces, one resembling a close relative is much less likely.  It also misses the coincidence of my mother's thoughts on the day it was taken. 

'The double/triple exposure hypothesis' / 'Your camera was dodgy' 

I'm afraid I don't know much about the capabilities of an instamatic camera for producing a double exposure.  I would guess that the nature of the camera makes it less likely.  The film doesn't need to be wound on after each shot.   Also, the film doesn't have to be sent to a lab (where mix ups or practical jokes could take place) and it processes immediately. 

The double exposure theory faces further challenges.  Firstly, how did my gran's face get on the unprocessed film?  As far as I know, we never photographed her with that camera.  Secondly, her face would have to have been photographed against a totally plain background or in addition to the 'angel''s face (a totally unknown character).  Thirdly, neither my mother or I had any knowledge of the instamatic camera failing to produce a photo first time i.e. it had always worked perfectly well…a double or triple exposure would have had to have stuck inside the camera without our knowing.   Finally, again, all this misses the significant 'coincidence' that my mother was thinking in depth about my gran at the time the photo was taken.   My conclusion is that this theory is so convoluted that it just doesn't stand up.

'The angel hypothesis' / 'What does it all mean?' 

When I combine this with other personal experiences, and published evidence/ research (some more convincing than others), I'm inclined to believe that consciousness, and some part of personality / memory is capable of surviving death and on rare occasions, is able to contact the living.  

Those who already believe in such things may mock my lack of faith or perceive my agnosticism as a weakness.  Materialists or Athiests may challenge my ready willingness to jump to favourable conclusions.  The agnostic is stuck in the middle with lots of questions and no firm answers.  

This does not lead me to any comforting conclusions regarding the after-life.  Even if it were possible to prove beyond any doubt that our essential personality survives death it would not mean that religion or traditional descriptions of heaven (and what of Hell?) were right all along (besides, which religion, which heaven?!).  

The main philosophical implication, for me, is that hard-line Materialism, and the theory that consciousness/  mind is a by-product of the brain (and dies with it) has to be seriously questioned.  As for the emotional implications, it was not my intent to delve too deeply into those on this occasion, preferring a fairly dry and direct document of events.