Sorry P. Swayz.
Never seen 'Dirty Dancing', which apparently is some kind of mortal sin.
I've seen 'Ghost' when I was little, that was it.
I've never been a 'celebrity' person. I'm a people person. If I meet you and you're cool - we're cool. We'll be friends and we'll be awesome. 'Celebrity' or not.
If I meet you and you're a douche, then you're a douche. I'll usually tell you, and have nothing more to ever do with you. 'Celebrity' or not.
(I use the term 'celebrity' lightly now-a-days, people. There really aren't any anymore. The word 'celebrity' isn't supposed to be defined as, "...Someone really popular and in movies/on TV.")
I first met Patrick Swayze (I call him P. Swayz) on Thanksgiving of 2013.
I was sitting alone, flipping through the channels on TV. I passed 'Ghost', and went back to it.
(He's sitting beside me now as I type this, by the way...)
So 'Ghost' is on. I'm watching it between trips back and forth to the kitchen to get more food.
The scene comes up where P. Swayz is in the subway with that other ghost, learning how to kick shit around... And I hear laughter.
I'm the only one in the room.
I look over at the other couch, and there he is. P. Swayz. Straight chillin'. Navy blue cotton t-shirt tucked into a dark wash blue jean. Kind of high waisted. He's leaned back, all comfortable, arm up on the armrest, watching 'Ghost' with me. Laughing his head off.
"What up P. Swayz?"
He looked over to me and smiled. I automatically knew he was a very kind, warm, loving man. Felt almost like a big brother, a protector - but gentle.
"P. Swayz, I like that."
"Why nobody cornered that market while you were alive, I'll never know."
He laughed. Come to find out, he thinks I'm pretty damn funny. Who'da thunk it. I can have him roaring in seconds. You're welcome, P. Swayz.
I then went about what I do every time I'm chatting with someone I don't know... Google the living shit out of them. Or YouTube, if they're supposed to be 'famous'.
So, I did. I read a little, I watched a couple videos...
..."So I hear you're gonna be some hot shot Hollywood type?"
"Good." He nodded, and went back to watching the movie. "They could use some of you in there."
"Doing it for other people, too. If it was only for myself it'd be pointless."
"You're a good kid. Don't give up."
I put my phone down, "So are you a part of my ghost team now? Did Lucy give you some kind of all season pass?"
He laughed. "Something like that."
I went about my business, blah blah. That night I had what I refer to as a 'girly moment'. One of those moments we girls have too frequently where we just hate everything about ourselves.
I looked into my bathroom mirror and just hated everything. Silently planning the plastic surgery I would schedule with my big pay day.
I started to cry.
"Hey now, stop that."
P. Swayz. Welcome back.
"Honey, you're beautiful! Look at yourself, look." He stood to my right, and pointed into the mirror. "Those eyes, that face, those freckles. You've got a body any man in his right mind would kill for, and a personality to match. If I was alive, I'm sure I'd have to beat them off of you."
Awh. P. Swayz. <insert blush>
"Thanks, but I'm not feeling it today man."
"Listen, you're the only one that can see those things sweetie. I promise. Women have such horrible image issues, ya know? I don't get it. The damn magazines and shit don't do anything but put a gorgeous girl in front of a mirror cutting herself down. Like now. It's ridiculous." He took a breath. Or let one go, perhaps. "Please stop."
I smiled and turned to him. "I think we're gonna be BFFs." I took in his slightly dated hair before I said, "Thank you."
He laughed, said "Goodnight." ...& was gone.
The next night, after all my work was done, I took it upon myself to further YouTube my new friend. I was YouTubing hard, deep into a long series of related videos when I came across a video from The View. I think. One from right before he died.
I watched it... And I have no fucking idea what happened...
The only other person this has happened with was Lucy. Still not sure what it means, I'll have to ask a medium friend of mine.. Note to self.
So I'm watching it, and I suddenly started bawling my fucking eyes out. Like I was mourning him or something. Like I knew him in life.
It gets airy and cold around me, that's when he's walking up to me. "Hey, hey... I'm okay..."
I'm still watching the video, sobbing. "God, this is so fucking sad! You fought this so hard, P. Swayz. You didn't want to go, you didn't want to leave your wife... This shit took you, that's not fair."
He sat down behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist. I felt the pressure of his head on my shoulder as he rocked me a little, whispering in my ear. "Everybody has a time. That was my time."
"It's still so sad."
"Death isn't sad, sweet heart. Death is just a movement. A step into another place. I'm okay, I'm cancer free. I can watch over everyone anytime I want. I can do anything, go anywhere. Don't cry for me."
I kept crying.
"Hey, think of it this way, if I wasn't dead we may have never met each other."
He laughed, I smiled. "Not funny."
"April, baby, honey, don't cry. Please. I'm fine. It's okay. Really. Don't cry for me."
I can't even - my god he's a sweet, caring man. He really is. Very kind and considerate. I always feel so loved and protected when he's around, like nothing can hurt me. Again, like a brother - or a Dad. Some weird brother/dad/friend mixture.
He loves his wife so much. He was in love with her before he knew her, stayed in undying love while he was with her (despite that stupid 'affair' comment someone made - it never happened. At the most, it was his kindness and charm that was taken the wrong way by the other party), and is still in love with her. They are soulmates.
It's really important to him that I relay his message to his wife. He really want to say that he's okay with her getting remarried. He's happy about it, and supports it. He really wants her to know it's okay with him. *shrug*
I told P. Swayz, "I hope I can find a love like you guys."
"It's rare, kiddo, but not impossible. It will find you, not the other way around. Don't go chasing it."
"D'ya know who it is?"
Smirk. "Maybe. I think you do, too."
"Your fairy tale isn't the normal one. Not you. You don't need someone to sweep you up and save you, no. You need the man who will come be your equal. Who will work with you, stand beside you. Who loves what you love. Does what you do. And of course, protection and all that stuff isn't a bad bonus. All that fairy tale romance, tho... You'll get it."
P. Swayz. Doubling as Cupid?
"He knows. He's just going through the lessons he needs for this lifetime. So his life fits with yours in the way it needs to."
I said nothing. Sat in shock. Processing. Spirit can have a way of really surprising you.
He still loves dancing. I was shuffling my boredom around on Pandora, and 'Dirty Dancing' by Usher came on.
"This is our song, girl! If I was alive, I'd for sure take you dancing."
I look up and he's wiggling around my living room.
"Great beat. You're into this rap stuff, right? I could make this work. Not too bad."
"I miss dancing."
And we talked about dancing for awhile. I don't know why all spirit thinks they can just swoop me up and tango me around a ballroom, doesn't work that way. Not to mention I'd look like an idiot. Nice thought, tho.
He's really funny, too. He makes funny faces, sings along to music... He dances in the car with me sometimes. Kyle usually just drums his fingers on his knee. Lucy doesn't show up unless it's a Dean Martin or Ella CD or something. P. Swayz is my funny buddy.
He advised me on the system. All I'll repeat is his, "Don't ever let them play you, or talk down to you like you're trash." He cares a great deal, as Lucy does. For that, I am eternally grateful.
Right now, he just said (regarding this blog) "You know people will think you've lost you're damn mind, right?"
I said, "I'm supposed to care?"
He nodded once. "Fair enough."
I love you, P. Swayz. Thank you for being a friend.