AFTERNOON Of TELEPORTING
April 18th, 1998…..Having just now awakened from a short nap, I could not tell if it was AM or PM… The absence of sound in the area was a factor to my bewilderment. Daylight savings time had changed, and it was now staying light longer. That came to my mind as I lay there trying to figure out just exactly what time it really was. In this particular suburb, there is a soft droning sound off in the distance, that lets me know if it is morning because of the sounds of cars off on the freeway at the same time everyday. Right now, there are no sounds! NO traffic sounds!! No early morning bird sounds!!! Usually, in the evenings, there are the sounds of dogs barking, sirens wailing, children playing, or an occasional man and woman shouting in loud voices somewhere. But it is perfectly calm…quiet, tranquil even… It doesn’t matter what time it is.
As I lay in this in-between state of sleep and awake, I am remembering days when I drifted off into this same dream like feeling… When I was a child and laying on my back, at the top of the hill out back of the farm, I could look up at the sky and watch the clouds drift slowly over head… I could hear the sounds of the country then and now.
WE lived in a small New England town and had our own forest for a back yard. The sounds of the wind gently blowing through the trees made it’s own silvery whistling sound. The faster the wind blew the higher the sound of whistling. As the wind rose and fell it seemed like a whole orchestra was out there with me, raising and falling in many crescendos. It’s almost hypnotic as I float on the edge of sounds as I remembered them. I can sense the birds small chirping sounds off into the wind somewhere. I can even remember the sounds of the cows as they wander along their path, munching grass, and the oomphing sound they make as they walk along. It’s like an effort with their great weight to lumber along for such a long walk… One wonders why cows walk so much as they eat? Do they want to walk? OR, Is it just that the grass is always greener somewhere else? Umph, oomph, oomph, another cow walks by.
Then it’s crickets and grasshoppers… I’m distracted by the lightening bugs. I want to catch them and put them in a jar for tonight… Now I hear the frogs in the MAGIC FROG POND… We used to catch pollywogs there in the spring and summer. Skate on the ice in the winter. Picnic under the trees in the fall and tell each other Ghost stories, until we ran home and hid in the closets. We make believe we know who we will be when we grow up, and what we will be doing… I can almost hear the long ago voices of children talking. I can smell the smell of loamy wet earth, as I roll over on my tummy and face the grass. It smells like frogs and cows and Lilies of the Valley, and clean, all at the same time.
NOW, I hear a crow cawing loudly. He has broken the spell and I find I now know what time it is… It is late afternoon or early evening… I am back in my bedroom trying not to wake up. If I don’t get up I will not sleep tonight! ( sounds like mom talking!) I think, “Who cares, if I sleep tonight or not! I will sleep when I sleep and wake when I wake”… For now I will get up and write this before it slips off into eternity…
I did my DNA for genealogy and discovered I have 5 poets in my past line. Walt Whitman, RLS, and Mark Twain (aka ) I have forgotten already… will have to look them up again.
WE WAITED FOR THE MIRACLE
Children do such precious things in the name of religion! OR curiosity, OR in faith…
On snow days in Dexter, Maine we usually spent the day in her house or mine, as both her parents and mine were working. She lived right across the street from me and we were as close as sisters. Today we would be called BFF’S. Her name was Sylvia and she was 10 years old and a Presbyterian. I was a Catholic, 10 years old too, but open to anything else because I was curious. Grammy was a Catholic and she was the only one in my house attending church so that left me with being a Catholic too, because I always attended church with her.
On this day Sylvia and I were reading children’s books and Sylvia would play act she was all the girls parts in the story and I would be all the boys parts. We would read the parts out loud to each other, that made it much more interesting. In another book we would change roles and she would have the deeper boys voice and I would have the higher girls voice…It was fun until we ran out of interesting things to read at her house, so we dressed up warmly in snow suits, just to cross the road to my house.
Running up stairs to my room, we pulled out several books that would show forth interesting DRAMA for us. There were twin beds in my room because I shared my room with Grammy and as we each laid on a bed while trying to decide which book to read first, I noticed a news paper from Montreal, Canada on Grammy’s dresser, right next to her STATUE OF THE VIRGIN MARY! The paper touted a picture of that Virgin with its head broken off! Almost exactly like Grammy’s statue. Tears were coming down the face of the broken statue in the news paper picture. It looked like someone tried to place the head back on when it began to CRY “so the paper said!” We read about the little girl who needed a miracle in her life and as she was praying, she had accidentally dropped the statue and broken it, and it began to shed tears!! and…miraculously she was healed of what ever was wrong… OH MY! such drama for us. We talked about this for a little while, trying to think of a MIRACLE we could use. We were trying to find some one or something to heal. We Finally decided on Errol, a boy we knew who was born with deformities. We Liked Errol and thought it would be nice if he could be normal and speak and play like regular kids. So, Errol was the focus of our MIRACLE!
The next thing we had to do was break the head off the statue and then wait for it to cry, then dress up in snow suits again and run over to Errol’s house to see his improvement.
“Saint’s preserve us and Dear ST Anthony!” We had to drop it several times before the head broke off. It wasn’t crying! WE WERE! I tried to put it back on quickly, but it would’t stay on. No glue! We finally left it on the floor for grammy to find while we went to Errol’s house to play… He was the same old Errol…No miracle there…
I was kind of afraid to go to bed that night because, maybe the Virgin would be mad at me for breaking her head off!.
WE HAD GOOD INTENTIONS… NOTHING WAS EVER SAID ABOUT THE STATUE EITHER??? I GUESS THAT WAS OUR MIRACLE!!! We didn’t get punished… maybe grammy read the article and knew it was us, trying to preform some kind of miracle ?
MY FIRST KISS
He was not the boyfriend I had in mind for the first Kiss… If it should ever happen!! The boy I liked already had a girl friend. So at the ripe old age of twelve I just went around moony eyed, not looking for anyone else to be a girlfriend to.
I had been to the movies with a girlfriend that Saturday afternoon. When the show was over we walked up the hill together, then she went in to her house while I continued on towards the railroad tracks to take a short cut to my house on Lower Main Street. Just as I was about to enter the tracks I saw some one walking towards me coming from the opposite end of the tracks. It was nearly dark and early fall, a little cool out now the seasons were beginning to change.
Soon, I recognized Wayne Greene…a boy in a class ahead of me in school. He was considered the town’s TOM SAWYER. He did just about anything he pleased, and went to school pretty regular for the most part. But… at age 14 he was noted to have smoked and cussed at times, stayed out late and had 2 girl friends already. It was also said that he even drove a car. An old Ford with a rumble seat!!
Wayne must have recognized me at about the same time because we both waved and said “HI!” He was smoking and I was embarrassed about that, but he just threw it out and started talking. I told him I was just taking the short cut home by way of the tracks after the movies. He said to “get off the tracks” because there was a HOBO camp up ahead. So he decided to walk me home just to be on the safe side. I welcomed his company after that. We continued walking and talking and I arrived home much sooner than if I had been walking by myself. I got to know the Wayne Green every one was always talking about. Then, just as we were about to part company with a “thanks for walking me home,” He quickly gave me a big kiss on the lips!. I was so startled I nearly fell down. He then asked me if I would be his steady girlfriend from now on! I had to tell him my dad wouldn’t let me!! That seemed to satisfy him, as he said “Okay, see ya later.”
We never talked again, and I never told anyone Wayne Green gave me a kiss walking me home from the movies.
As soon as I got into the house I ran into the bathroom to see what I looked like… I wondered if I had changed in appearance sense being kissed. I was sure every one could tell just by looking at me, but they never did.
One other time I made a date with a boy named Norman to go to the movies, when the day arrived I forgot all about the date I had promised him…(this was my first date too and didn’t remember these things) I left with other friends and went somewhere else. It seems the boy walked over from another town about 8 miles away to pick me up, only to find me gone! My dad was home when he came by however, and they spent some time together talking..When I got home, dad sat me down for a little talk too…He reminded me how far Norman had walked and how rude I was to do that…” But dad, I forgot!” was no excuse…anyway, next Saturday he had a cord of wood for me to load into the cellar…I was a little more considerate after that…
critique’ and edit
Just as soon as I can get a few more stories on here I will begin to critique/edit them… They are kinda rough right now but hang in there.
JIGGLE ANTS
Just as Larry and Maria were leaving the house, they looked back at me with one last bit of instruction. “Don’t forget, in bed by 8:30… no water to drink after 7 pm, no running through the house and don’t let them run all over you mom!” “No problem” I said. As the door shut behind them I heard them say…”Do you think she can handle them? they never go to sleep before 9 o’clock” Well, there was never a child I couldn’t handle and I wasn’t going to start tonight. Besides I was in the middle of a good book and wanted to get in some reading too.
They were the original RUG RATS… Roxanne was the oldest at 6 and in the first grade. Tony was 5 and in kindergarten, and he did everything Roxane suggested they do. Dan-Dan was 3 and Dussy Dussy was 2.
The first thing I did was ask if they wanted to watch a video on TV? No takers… Then they began to run around the house, chasing each other while shouting at the top of their little lungs. “Oh this would not do ” I said to my self, as I pretended to read my book and keep an eye on them at the same time. They kept getting closer and closer to me with the noise and running about. I guessed they just wanted me to join them!!!
I put down my book and asked them if they had JIGGLE ANTS in the house? They all looked at Roxanne to see if they had JIGGLE ANTS or not. She would have been the family member designated to determine the nature and amount of Jiggle ants they had … IF…they had JIGGLE ANTS… “We don’t have JIGGLE ANTS” Roxanne said, “we just have regular ants. If we had JIGGLE ANTS I would have seen them!” “Oh no,” I said “JIGGLE ANTS are invisible, you have to get a flashlight and look in your shoes, they live in shoes.” I said.
Tony thought he knew where dad kept his flash light, and so we began to search out the shoes. They each brought me their own shoes, and we began to inspect them quit thoroughly. We thought we saw one or two at times but they were just to quick for us to catch. “How can we get rid of them grandma?” Roxanne wanted to know. “Well, you must put your shoes in the sunlight in the morning before you put your shoes on, or else shine a flashlight in them if the sun isn’t shining.” I said rather seriously. “They hate sunlight, and right now we must shake them out of you as best we can, don’t you think?” Of course they agreed with me ! I was Gramma and the next best authority to Roxanne.
“First I need to get the time clock and time it for you…2 minutes, or maybe 3 each round. When I say GO! you must begin to jump as fast as you can… NO! screaming, jump silently…GO!” when the bell rings you must shout as loud as you can until the bell rings again.” So we went about getting rid of Jiggle Ants for the next half hour. We went the full round. No sense taking chances that the JIGGLE ANTS would return tonight. They jumped, ran, screamed, sang, hopped and turned around in circles for 2 to 3 minute intervals. … So loud were some of the activities that I thought the neighbors might call the police to see if I were beating the children! 3 minute intervals can be a long time for a RUG RAT.
When I could think of no more activities to be done, I checked them all over and pronounced them clean of JIGGLE ANTS. Then we all sat down while I read them a story. Not 5 minutes into the story they began to nod off, one after the other. I checked my watch..not quite 8 0’clock.”Ah hah” I said to myself…”we are to bed a little early tonight, the little darlins.” They were all tuckered out!
Just as I picked up my book to indulge my self, in comes Larry ? He had forgotten his wallet and left Marie at the restaurant for collateral while he came home to pick it up. “What Happened MOM? How did you get them to sleep so soon?” “Ah, the little darling were just to tired and needed a gramma’s touch!” “Nite nite!”
SMOKEY
The first time I saw Smokey he was sitting on a bench looking out the big crossed-barred window of the State hospital building, humming to himself. No particular words just a tune of some nursery rhymes.
He looked to be about 30 something years old. He was small boned, about 5’2″ tall, with a wizened gnome looking face, and Smokey grey eyes. (possibly where the nick-name came from.) He was my first student case, in my 3rd semester as a Psychic Tech nursing student, at the California (now defunct) State Hospital for the Developmentally Challenged. I was the oldest student in my class. I was also assigned the oldest client as part of the clinical experience. I came to know my client real well, and I like to think I learned a bit from him too. I was to assess his mental and physical status, evaluate his abilities and write a treatment plan compatible to his level of functioning. I was also required to implement a new level of behavior , using behavior modification. The other students and I were supposed to use this punishment /reward system recommended by Dr. Bob. Dr. Bob was the resident Psychologist for the State Hospital and he was not our instructor per se, but he did oversee the program we had to follow. At the end of the 2 or 3 week program, he and the instructor would evaluate our progress and outcome of each new behavior we might have taught.
I had never had close contact with developmentally challenged persons, but no matter how challenged we all are, I suspect we all respond to love and kindness, at some point in our lives. I suspected a kindred spirit in SMOKEY. I remember reading once by a former President of the American Institute of Psychoanalysis, that, “Kindness is more important than wisdom, and the recognition of this, is the beginning of wisdom.”
As students, we had to teach and learn the punishment and reward system. Dr. Bob emphasized any reward that worked was okay with him. However the trail mix was his primary recommendation. We all had 2 weeks to complete our project and be evaluated.
I took my time that first week, offering Smokey a handful of trail mix laced with M&M’s, while getting to know him better. Surprisingly, Smokey didn’t accept the reward! On closer inspection I discovered he was missing most of his back teeth and those he did have were full of cavities. I sensed Dr. BOB’S reward mix was not going to work well with Smokey. I was going to have to find my own “reward” system for him.
What kind of reward would Smokey like? I wondered.? I found a base ball cap in the wreck room of the boys and gave it to him… he looked at it , put it on, but did not respond in any way when I took it away. He just sat there looking out the window, humming to himself. Three days of my first week were gone and I was getting nowhere. I decided to spend the next day going over his chart to see if I had over looked anything of importance.
Smokey lived at home with his grandmother, until her death when he was in his 20’s, and other family members were unable to care of him when she died, thus his arrival at the State Hospital. He had been in the State Hospital for over 10 years, and the oldest client in his dorm. I remember reading in one of our journals about a Dr. Kendall Johnson PH.D. “Without intervention therapy, denial and repressive patterns can occur when children are overwhelmed with feelings they can neither understand or express.” I believed the sudden loss of grandmother and the move to an institution was a traumatic experience for SMOKEY! I resolved he may have withdrawn into his psyche, and relived his past through grandmothers music. I was the mother of 6 and grandmother of four at the time, and what did I do that worked well for me? I sang to them! I sang to them putting them to bed, when they were anxious, or when ever we got in the car for a trip to the grocery store. We just sang in general!! We used to hug a lot too. I think I was on to something. Didn’t DR. Bob say any reward system was ok with him if it worked. I was anxious to start implementing my new ideas. I would have to start again on Monday.
Monday came…I did not waste my time getting trail mix that didn’t work for us anyway. Smokey was in his usual place sitting by the window, humming to himself. I knew that song, it was “Twinkle Twinkle little star!” So I joined him! We sang and rocked, back and forth all morning long, singing all kinds of nursery rhymes. We did the same thing the next day, and the third day HE SMILED AT ME. I was really beginning to like Smokey. HE had heart! AND he remembered SOMETHING! I had 2 days left to get Smokey to follow my commands .
Smokey was chronologically 30 years old, but mentally he was diagnosed at 2 1/2 years old. Did he have a long term memory? How much? I suspected he remembered grandmother…or was it just the stimulus of the songs that “felt good?”
I went in Friday morning hoping to get Smokey off that window seat he was so fond of. We Rocked back and forth and sang for a while. “Let’s go for a walk Smokey,” I said. He got up and we walked away from that window seat. We walked all morning long, walking and singing our, by now, vast repertoire of nursery songs. I hugged him good-by when I left. I only hoped he would remember me come Monday morning when testing was due.
Monday came, I was the 5th person to be tested, thank goodness. It gave me a chance to visit with Smokey and let him know I was there. We hummed quietly for a while until it was our turn. I had a good feeling about today… I just knew I was going to get the coveted A+ today. As my name was called, I had to stand some distance from Smokey and get his attention. I was not allowed to get to close, as the test was to get him to come to me. I began humming a little bit, then asked him to come to me! HE DID!! Then I asked him to go back and sit down, and we would go for a walk later and HE DID! The other students were congratulating me on a job well done! I was sure I had received 100% on that test. NOT SO, WITH DR. BOB!!! I DID NOT USE SINGLE WORD COMMANDS. As in, come, sit, stand roll over much like a dog…SINGING WAS NOT PART OF THE REWARD SYSTEM…That is not what he said in the beginning…. any reward that worked was ok with him.?
Dr Bob proceeded to show me the proper way to do it. He commanded Smokey to “come”, Smokey didn’t… Dr Bob got closer and demanded Smokey to stand! Smokey didn’t…These single word commands continued for a while, with Smokey totally ignoring DR. Bob. Dr. Bob began to arm wrestle with Smokey trying to get him to do his commands…and he didn’t… I’ll say this much, Smokey was no fool and I’ll bet he had a long term memory no one ever imagined. Dr. Bob failed me, but fortunately my teacher didn’t. she said Dr Bob didn’t do as well as I did.
I learned much from Smokey that semester, no matter how developmentally challenged a person is, we all have feelings and I’ll never forget it, or him.
MY RUN-IN WITH THE LAW
When I was 67 years old, I took both parents back to the East Coast to be buried in their family plots. They had been cremated and were prepared for the journey…They knew the plan before hand… we had preplanned it.
The day came when I flew to Portland, Maine. Cousin Mick picked me up at the airport. I loved coming in on that flight as it over looked the ocean when I landed, on a beautiful sunny day. Nothing auspicious about it, just a plain old beautiful day. We drove to Mick’s home in Farmington, Maine where I was greeted by his best friend, room mate and significant other, Sue… he called her Sues Ay’, that’s the Maine’rs accent. Sues Ay’ had a big meal already cooked. ( she said he helped earlier too.) Best Pot of beans I ever ate!. They were called Jacobs Cattle. After dinner We walked about their garden and pool area… SUNFLOWERS were 15 feet tall… then we settled in the kitchen for family gossip time. It was then decided we would go to the cemeteries on two different days, Thursday and Friday as mom and dad were in different parts of the state.
Thursday came and we went to the cemetery in the town of Wilton, Maine..Just down the road from Farmington…Mom had many friends there and so it was reported in the local newspaper that a graveside service would be held for her that day….As our religion requires, we had the gravesite consecrated by the local Stake President of the LDS church. There were several Older retired, Stake Presidents, Bishops, Elders and Missionaries as well as friends and family in attendance. I felt she had a good send off, and I know she would have been pleased. I might add that we attended the services in Sues Ay’s car, a major joy to be in her car…Compared to what was about to happen!
Friday came and we got an early start for Dexter, Maine, where dad’s family plot was…No longer in Sues Ay’s car. (she did’t come with us this time) We now went rambling down the road in Cousin Mick’s RED NECK TRUCK, gun rack in the back window, with guns intact, huge tires and country music blasting as we went on down the road. I had called the Town Hall people in advance and was informed that I must check in with them first to pay for the grave digger to dig the hole to put the ashes in. We went down Main street and found the TOWN HALL…This is where the fun begins. (Dad was not a MORMON so we did not have the spirit with us I guessed, after the fact…OR MAYBE WE DID!)
We pulled up in front of the TOWN HALL and went in together. There was no line to wait in, so we just waited for the 3 ladies to finish there gossip and acknowledge that we were there. Where upon one of the local constabulary entered the office and the girls began to pay attention to us. I told them I had come to pay the gravedigger for dad’s burial. She remembered me from my phone call, and politely asked if I was “from here?” … I said Yes! but it had been some time ago…then she said, “It will be $50. if you live here but $100. if you are from “away!” I guessed California was “AWAY” so I paid the $100. She apologized, but couldn’t take my cash? I would have to go across the street to the bank and get a certified check! Well, who knew? So off to the Bank, Cousin Mick and I went. It was cold out so Mick opted to stay in the RED NECK TRUCK with the heater on while I went into the bank alone with my cash to get a certified check…No one was around that I could see, in the bank… I said “Hello” a few times when a prune faced woman came to a window. I appeared to be the only customer there at the time… I handed her my CASH and asked for a certified bank check, of which she refused to give me! I was shocked, WHAT? I said, in a not to soft voice.”Isn’t this a public BANK?” “Don’t you take CASH?” “Do you have an account here? she asked. “NO! I’m from “away”, they told me at the Town Hall to come over here and get a certified check so I can pay the gravedigger to bury my dad!” I began to raise my voice, “what is wrong with people here, they don’t take cash?”. and customers began to come in left and right.. Unbknownst to me, she had pushed a RED BUTTON that called the local constabulary, and as a parting message she yelled at me to go to the postoffice, it was cheaper there anyway ! Ironically 2 or 3 policemen entered the bank as I was leaving. I jumped into cousin Mick’s still running RED NECK TRUCK, and told him what the crabby woman had said to me, so now we had to go to the post office at the other end of town to get the certified check to pay the gravedigger to bury my dad.. Those Policemen must have been in contact with one another because when we got to the post office a nice police man opened the door for me and walked me to the postman at the counter. He was a nice man too, and gave me a certified check for the $100. cash. No big thing!. I complained to him about the grouchy lady at the bank and he just smiled. Nice guy… As I was going back out to climb into the still running RED NECK TRUCK, I noticed a police car on either side of Mick’s truck, and as I got in, Mick gave a loud curse that ended with “**#%*what the **&^%##*@ have you been doing Mary? We have COPS following us every where we go?” and sure enough as we drove back to the TOWN HALL to pay the gravediggers bill, They followed us… At the TOWN HALL again I was told the gravedigger was out to lunch now ,so we would have to go directly to the cemetery at 2 o’clock and pay the gravedigger himself.
I was hungry and so, oblivious to my surroundings, but Mick kept calling me MA BARKER. “Let’s go out by the lake and have lunch, we gotta wait anyway?” I said, so off to the lake we went trailing 2 cop cars. When we pulled into the parking lot, one cop car kept going and the other followed us.! I had a great lunch of fish and chips, he had pork chops. Pretty soon, as Mick pointed out, the other cop car came back and parked on the opposite side of the building from the first car. It appeared we had an escort…I told him it wasn’t me they were after, but him! After all, he was the one with the RED NECK TRUCK, gun rack and running motor… We had strawberry shortcake, then left.
We headed for the cemetery and waited for the gravedigger. When we got there, we looked back and noticed the entrance and the exit to the cemetery were blocked off by cop cars. “OH BOY!” I just wondered? When were we going to be arrested and what for? Pretty soon a member of the VA showed up with a placard for dad’s head stone. That was nice, I didn’t know the VA even knew we were here… Then he mentioned that because Dad was an ex cop on the Dexter Police Force we got the royal treatment… who knew.? The police force showed up to give US an escort and a farewell SALUTE to one of their own… Mick and I watched the gravedigger dig the hole and bury dad’s ashes, then we left. We had a trail of cop cars until we reached the town line. Thank goodness they were for dad, I never could have paid Mick’s bail…
,
A TRIAL WITH CANCER
JOY and I were very good friends, we met at a Metaphysical book store on Fulton Ave. in Sacramento, California. I worked at the store and she came in to check out our supply of SELF HELP books… Not quit ready for Leo Buscaglia, and a little way past Phylis Diller! We had much to talk about! Her husband, having recently run off with a sweet YOUNG thing, a year or so back, and leaving her with 3 half grown children to raise alone. Lots of anger there…
I having run away from an abusive marriage some years passed, was a good listener…She was an astrologer… I did a little Psychic reading at the book store. We discovered we both lived in Elk Grove, California. So to save time we began to meet at the STAGE COACH coffee shop every morning on my way to my real job at the county JAIL. We had so much to talk about… we became fast friends…
One day I took a fall at my job and could not work at that profession anymore. Re-hab was next. I opted to go back to school for the next year and a half, and majored in Psych nursing… Possibly to learn the scientific /medical half of the metaphysics I had been so fond of. At that time there was 2 thoughts going around about Metaphysics…I learned about EDITH FIORE’S Possessions, as well as a group of Drs in the Bay Area , namely John Climo’s research in a similar field, but with schizophrenia. What was the difference between them? It was interesting … I learned a lot about critical thinking too. Joy was the one that talked me into going through this course at school. She drew up an astrology chart for me and it was decided that now was the best time to attend as the future was going to change radically in a couple of years. And IT DID!
While I was in school she was diagnosed with cancer. As soon as she completed her chemotherapy we went on a mini vacation…
OUR LAST FRIDAY NIGHT
How significant that Friday night was. So many emotions came to the surface. It was to change us both. Her for the next few months, and me for the rest of my life. I had recently won a trip to HIGHLANDS INN, in Carmel , California, on the coast. It included 3 days and 2 nights, plus 2 meals a day but we would only stay Friday night. I had asked Joy if she would go with me knowing she had only a few months left to live. I hoped it might somehow cheer her up and at the least get her mind of her impending death.
It had been a sunny day, a good omen. No fog yet. We could see and hear the calming effects of the ocean from our balcony at the room, half way up the hill. A rare sunset caught us by surprise as we stood silently side-by-side watching the orange red ball slowly sink into the ocean. “Do you suppose death could be like this?” she asked calmly. “Why not?” I said absentmindedly.
The door bell ringing brought us out of our reverie. Our dinner had arrived. After arranging the food on the table the busboy lit a fire in the fire place and then left extra logs to burn for later on. He would return later to check on us and collect the dirty dishes.
Appropriately enough we had ordered seafood, lobster to be exact. Joy had never had a whole lobster in the shell before and we laughed at her meek attempt to crack and eat the claws and tail following my instructions. “Just do as I do, crack, pick, then slurp!” This is the only way to eat a lobster. Joy was always a fastidiously neat person, well dressed with never a hair out of place. Right then she had no hair, a rag on her head, and her clothes were all messy with lobster juice, but there was laughter in her eyes as she tried my technique of eating lobster. A fastidiously neat person cannot stay messy for long!
I noticed her eyeing the jacuzzi bathtub! “How do those movie stars make such a big bubble bath?” she said. “Get in and I’ll show you” I said, as I began to dump the whole sample bottle of shampoo into the bath tub. Only a few bubbles appeared, she was not to impressed yet, so I turned up the jets on the jacuzzi, then went to put another log on the fire incase she became chilled later on. After a few minutes I looked in on her to find she had placed one leg over the rim of the tub as if she were the movie star. “Now this is more like it!” she said. I laughed watching her… Just about that time the door bell rang again and the busboy had come to retrieve the dirty dishes. As I was letting him in we both heard “HELP! HELP!” coming from the bath room. We both rushed in only to find she was completely submerged in bubbles, extending about 2 feet above and beside the rim of the tub. Only her fingertips were visible. Assuring the busboy there was no real danger he quickly gathered the dirty dishes and left. I began to scoop bubbles away from her and onto the floor, while she continued to laugh her head off. That was a good sound to hear, I’ll always remember her laughter.
The rituals of the evening taken care of, we settled down in front of the fire place, in our “Jammies” on the great big king size bed that dwarfed us both. We began to share confidences as only best friends can do. She wanted to give me all the classical music she had collected through the years. Her children were grown now and not into the classics. We discussed our children and our sentiments of the past. The “sorry for” the “didn’t do’s” and the happy times.
Joy was the astrologer, I became the religious one. That Friday night we concluded that the universe was forever, and so was life! Our fears of the unknown were gone for a little while… She became to sick in the morning to continue our escape from reality, so we drove home. It was our BEST and LAST FRIDAY NIGHT EVER.
I MISS YOU ALL… JOY…. BERNICE … JUNE… SYLVIA.. SUSIE…ALL taken by CANCER, and one more friend LINDA M… (not from cancer but just as tragic)… WHO else can say “all my friends are ANGELS.”
RUBY “T” AND THE CROCHET CLUB
This all started when Ruby “T” got sick at age 85 with pneumonia. Then she fell into that DREADED BLUE FUNK. No one could pull her out of it either… until…she received a most prized possession through the mail. A giant oil painting of a Jack Rabbit entitled “PSYCHEDELIC JOE,” in a chartreuse field of grass , spotted with daisies.
For the first time in a long time, laughter welled up inside her as she called her sister on the phone to come see this painting and read the accompanying letter. She was 85 now and was slowly going blind lately, and relied on her sister for many things.
At first, she thought the letter came to her by mistake. Addressed to her only as LAMMY PIE, with her address. Early in his life he had signed on with a fishing fleet out of Alaska. Then with a tramp steamer going around the Horn. So many things he wrote about, so many places he had been. He also wrote about his many adventures at sea with his crusty old friend George T. Revolution Jones. Last but not least he shared a memory of his youthful love for her.
STILL traveling all over the world, to busy to stop by… to late to change things!
Except for Christmas cards, no one had ever written to Ruby “T”. Every day she sat in the lobby of the Sr. Apartment complex where she lived. Her face spelling out resignation where laugh lines used to be. The years without teeth created a sunken gap, giving her face the appearance of constantly being surprised. Her most interesting feature were the eyes. Cloudy blue, due to glaucoma, yet constantly moving, trying to see who and what was in the room with her. She was as animated as a little girl with a new ribbon in her hair. Ruby “T’S” adrenalin was flowing again… Her life had begun to change for the better!
Every other week she would find a letter in her mail box.The cancelled stamp on the envelope would almost always reflect a new and different spot on the globe. Alaska, England, Hawaii, Fiji, and the last one was from Australia.
With sacred gentleness, she would lift the crinkled envelope from her mailbox. Excitement glowing from her face. Ruby “T” could hardly wait to tear it open and have her sister read it to her. They would laugh together and wonder who he really was. But first she would go home to her little apartment and hold the letter in her lap for a few private minutes, to cherish it alone.
Looking around her apartment, one could see nothing manly about it. Little crocheted doilies here and there. Her mothers China Tea Set was placed neatly on a Queen Ann side table, many colorful paintings on the wall. Her mother had been an artist and Ruby had an appreciation for the arts. ( One of the reasons , she could not bring herself to throw away that foolish old painting of “PSYCHEDELIC JOE”) She loved the colorful flowers in the oil paintings done by her mother. The recliner was her comfort zone, with it’s colorful knitted throw, duplicating the colors of the paintings on the wall. Lacy curtains on the window matched the table topper, with the table permanently set for two. Glass, brass, porcelain, and crystal angels decorated every little nook and cranny in the apartment. It was clean and smelled of old fashioned lemony furniture polish. She loved her little place. A real man might just mess it up!
Seated in her comfort zone, LAMMY PIE, just held her letter. She dreamed her dreams and reminisced about many things. Sister would be here soon and read the latest letter to her and then tomorrow she would share it with the ” CROCHET CLUB”. But right now it was her time to just hold the letter.
She didn’t know who he really was, and she didn’t care…It might be someone from her past or it might just be a case of mistaken identity. But… some one was definitely writing to her and the girls at the Crochet Club loved the letters almost as much as she did. They waited faithfully for the letters to come, and after a week or two , if one didn’t arrive the ladies would begin to collect in the lobby until the mailman finally came with a letter.
IT’s been several years now and the letters have ceased to come. I am the last of the Crochet Club members. I think he has died at sea.! His letters no longer come. The Crochet Club has all been abandoned. Ruby “T” has fully recovered from the dreaded BLUE FUNK. She remains alive and well in ELK GROVE CALIFORNIA.
She still displays the art work of “PSYCHEDELIC JOE” outside of her apartment door, nestled in amongst her flower pots, every Easter season. Hoping maybe he just might drop by to claim his painting….
Sometimes a good letter can cure a lot of ills… even for a little old lady waiting to die.
Chronicles of Blarnia 