Dear Horatio,
I have been faithfully reporting on your coming and going for years. I have been a dedicated stalker and stayed out of your way so I would not interfere with your business or job. I have been respectful of your privacy by not taking any photos of you but, son!!! We had a flat tire and you just drove on past us. You looked at us, you gawked at us and just drove on by. I am extremely disappointed. I know, you could have been on your way to a double homicide, a suicide, chaos at some disco but lets be honest, whomever or whoever you were rushing off to or for was already dead.
I am sad about this but I am terminating our relationship. Thank you for the fun and good bye.
Good times.... yep some good times.
As I was enjoying a long over due pedicure this morning something on the opposite side of the salon fell to the floor with a bang. There was no one over near where the noise came from and the only person in the shop never looked up, looked at us or even flinched. "What was that?" I asked and my tech just shrugged her shoulders. I leaned forward and said "ghosts" and she laughed and said "no it was a cockroach or a pencil rolled on to the floor. After a few moments passed she leaned forward in a conspiratorial way and whispered "Do you believe in GOD?" I told her yes, she glances around the room, "Me too" she whispered. She then lowered her voice even more and leaned forward again after looking all around the room in paranoia and proceeded to tell me that in downtown San Antonio a long time ago people were buried in mass graves or unmarked graves and no one remembered they were there. Now, with some wonderful strides in urban renewal, they are building apartments on top of some of these old forgotten graves and things are happening to people. She looks around again and tells me of her friend, Ngoc and her family who had just moved into some new apartment community downtown. Her husband has seen people, men women and children walking around in vacant apartments, hallways and on the grounds some are white, some of the people have a darker skin tone and some are Mexican. She tells me that Ngoc has not seen them nor have any other of their friends but a few other residents have said they have seen strange things and some have seen a person.
She glances around the room one more time and continues on with her tale. She says the family has a young son who will be playing, laughing and then suddenly talk to another child who is not there. When the mom asks him who he is playing with he says his friend. This has happened to her several times and every time she tries to tell the boy that no one is there he tells her to go away, that she is making his friend angry by saying he is not there.
"My friend cannot afford to move yet again and the managers will not let them change apartments." She sits up straight and looks around. She starts to tell me something and then looks around twice more. She leans in, "my friend pray to Buddha for the ghost to leave them alone, and nothing happen. Her husband still see people, her son still play with his friend." She looks around again and continues, "She finally throw her arms into a cross (she demonstrates by crossing her arms and putting them in front of her) and walks about her apartment shouting, You leave house! You leave son! GOD says! You leave us be until we can move! We don't have money but we will leave when we do. You leave us be until then. GOD says you have to leave us be. GOD says!" I am mesmerized by this story, it is just a bit familiar. I ask her what happened. "Her husband has not seen any people and her son's friend is gone." I smiled. "Do you believe in ghosts?" she asks me. Yes I do. "Do you think GOD chased off the ghosts?" Yes I do.
As I said this story is little familiar and here is why. . .
I would put Lovey down for her afternoon nap in her crib in her room when she was 18 months old and she would sleep for about an hour and a half. Then I would hear her. She would giggle, she would chatter but she would be very quiet about it. I would hear her move around in her crib. This would go on for at least half an hour. I thought it was just her normal waking up from a nap pattern and thought nothing of it. After a while she would get louder and I would go get her. Until one day, as I was peeking in the door to make sure she was OK while she played in her crib I noticed something very odd.
She was looking off to my right, which I could not see without opening the door, and smiling. She then got a surprised look on her face, shrieked with joy and started giggling. She then stood up in the far corner of the crib and proceeded to have what almost sounded like a conversation with someone who was making her giggle. She never once looked at the door where I was peeking through so it was not me she was playing with.
I closed the door and started to walk away. I was happy she was a happy baby and then it dawned on me that she was reacting to someone, something so I opened the door and went in. She looked over at me and then back at the corner and her smile disappeared.
There was nobody in there and nothing odd in the corner of the room. But someone had been entertaining her.
Ghost?......
I am preparing my art blog today which happens to be about witches in art. I am googling and researching up all kinds of articles from witch to witchcraft to divining wands and sorcery. Can you just imagine the type of ads and smart suggestions I am going to be getting for the next 24 hours. Hmmmm...
Oh yes and then this....
While I was at the Emergency Room with my Mother last week a man was in a room across the hall. He kept watching me sit and stand and pace the room. He never smiled or acknowledged me just watched. I have no idea what he was thinking. I have no idea who he was there with. It was unnerving. I started thinking a hospital is not the place to meet and arrange a date. But then I remembered I was going on a blind date arranged for me by a friend. The man called and we talked for a while prior to our date so we could get to know each other a little. He lived on one side of Dallas and I lived south of Fort Worth, miles and miles apart. I needed a place where I could park my car and feel safe if I needed help. Where could a Lady park that her car would be safe and she would be safe?
A hospital emergency parking lot. People were constantly coming and going and it was open all night. Perfect! He agreed. I gave it not another thought, I am quirky and it seemed logical. He later shared with me that out of all the blind dates he had ever been on this one would stay in his memory because he had never picked a Lady up for a date from a hospital. Well, that and the gay dance club we went to after jazz night at the Sons of Hermann Hall in Deep Ellum.
I had a great time! We chatted on the phone a few more times and decided that the great distance between us was a huge hindrance and so we went our separate ways. I wonder how he is.
In case you are wondering the Sons of Hermann is also called The Order of the Sons of Hermann or Der Orden der Hermann's Soehne or Hermannssöhne. It was formed as a protection society for German immigrants in New York City in 1840. It provides low cost insurance, mutual aid and preserves German language and traditions.
In 1861 the first Sons of Hermann Hall formed in Texas was Harmonia Lodge 1 and was formed in San Antonio.
In 1937 Harmonia Lodge 1 phased from German being spoken to English. In 1920 Harmonia Lodge 1 allowed women to join and became the first mixed Lodge in Texas and non Germans were allowed membership into the Organization in 1994.
Did I tell you he kept bees and made honey. He brought me a jar of his honey on our date. One of the best first date gifts EVER!!!
Maybe I will tell you of the man who wooed me with a daily beer.... tomorrow.
You asked if there was a story about Mother, the elevator and her head.
Well, it goes a little something like this....
It was about 8:46 on a Monday morning and I was folding a load of laundry when the phone rang. It was my Mother and this is what she said, "the elevator pushed me and I fell on my head". Repeat that Mom? She again said she had fallen on her head. There was a childlike confusion in her voice and I knew then that she had fallen and hit her head. Where are you mom? "I am at Dr. Fox's office." At this point I believe she is OK and surrounded by a medical team, I relax enough to let a funny scenario play in my head in animation of an elevator pushing my mom out and her falling directly into an upside down position on her head. She says "security took my statement." Well good. WAIT. Security? Mom, what exactly do you need from me? "The elevator pushed me and I fell on my head." She is starting to lose her composure. I will be right there Mom!
I arrive at the medical building where Dr. Fox is located and Captain Chris with security meets me at the door. He explains what Mom had told him happened as he escorts me to the lab where she has gone to have blood drawn for an appointment later this week. He says he will check the video to determine what actually happened. She was no where near Dr. Fox's office. Captain Chris checks on her again as her blood is drawn and suggests she go over to the main hospital to get looked at. She assures him she will and he says he will inform the ER triage department that she will be there.
As we leave the office she describes to me what happened. She was getting on the elevator when the doors closed. It went like this... She was taking a step forward with all her weight on the forward foot when the doors started closing. She is 84 5'5" and weighs about 112 pounds. As the doors came together her forward movement collided with the now closed door and she was pushed backward by the elevator landing on her butt and falling back banging her head into the non carpeted floor. She was right the elevator pushed her and she fell on her head. Let me assure you my Mom knows how to use an elevator and moves around unaided and very well. She said a man inside even stuck his arm in between the doors but they kept closing and he moved his arm just as they closed.
Mother lives on the 8th floor of a high rise apartment that is full of retired people. The elevators they use have the doors programmed to stay open a very long time because elderly people in wheelchairs, walkers, motorized scooters and walking need time to get on. These doors are also equipped with lasers spaced up and down the doors and the moment anything breaks the beam as they are closing the doors open. People are very very rarely hit by an elevator door. This is what she is used to. Not that I am defending the bad, aggressive rude elevator that attacked her. This rogue elevator is in a medical facility next to a hospital and out of the 11 people in the waiting room of the office she was in all but 1 were over 65. Theresa with Housekeeping who saw the whole thing says people are knocked around by that elevator all the time including a man who was not so elderly that got off that same elevator and helped her.
Fast Forward to the ER. I tell the tech the story and before I can finish he asks her to come in and about 10 minutes later I am told to go back to room 9. As the nurse is asking questions Mom reports that her butt is causing her some pain and she is feeling dizzy and has a headache. Within in moments a Dr. arrives and after a few more questions an X-ray and CT scan are ordered. We wait for the results. The Dr. reports that her coccyx is fractured, L2 and L4
have fractures but they appear old and there is a strange anomaly reading in her head that they cannot make out but does not appear to be internal bleeding. He orders an MRI. A few hours later the Dr. arrives and informs me that she does have a fracture of her coccyx, she has two other older fractures that are not related to this incident and that the MRI has come back clear. He will prescribe some pain meds and we can go.
When Mom returns I give her the results of what the Dr. Shared and she is visibly relieved. I call my brother to give him the news and all he can say is ..."so sis, from what you are saying I have a broke ass Mother?" Yes you have a broke ass Mother, we laugh and as she laughs she calls us idiots. (We have been kicked out of the ER and her hospital room on other occasions for being loud and filling the hall with laughter while there with her.) We are an odd, quirky family. I stare down her nurse who was grabbing release orders and we are sent on our way.
It is now after 4:00 PM and all she wants is a chocolate milk shake and to go take a nap. I swing into McDonald's and order her shake.
It was gone by the time I completed the 3 mile long drive. She took a nap and later we watched her favorite TV show and then I sent her to bed.
That is the end of the day the elevator pushed my mom and she fell on her head.
In the movie "City of Angels" while the Angel is escorting the little girl to Heaven he asks her what she will miss the most about her world. She replies "footy pajamas".
It is a brilliant answer and what, at least in my mind, is very closely associated with babies and small children. I had footie pajamas until I was about 4. My Brother wore footie pajamas until he was probably 6. My babies all had footie pajamas until they were 4.
They encase the child from head to toe giving a visual of a comforting, protective cocoon as children should be kept. As I want to be kept. Her answer is sad yet she is calm and peaceful as she says it turning her head from looking back. She lets go of what was wonderful with no fear and steps further away willingly into an unknown. It is the best few moments in the film.
I woke up thinking about that this morning and wondering what I would say today if asked that question. My answer has always been horses.
But, today I hesitated. My mind flashed to everything I have not done or experienced. Places, especially places I have not been to, Prague, Budapest,
London, Figi and a hundred more. That quickly faded into visions of what I would miss; ballet, singing, painting, being thin, having glorious strawberry blonde long shiny hair. I then realized I no longer have those things. I am no longer thin and cannot wear all the beautiful fashions. My hair is no longer strawberry or blonde or long or glorious. After 4 years of ballet we discovered my ankles are defective and I would never be the ballerina
I dreamed of becoming, as mush as I loved music I could not play the piano or guitar and my voice in song is far from lovely or pleasing and my voice coach was so frustrated. I never could paint how I saw things in my mind or even how they looked to me in reality and I became incredibly discouraged, my art master still believed in me but maybe she needed the money. I cannot afford a horse and due to the injuries I received in a horrible fall I cannot ride. So I cannot possibly miss those things either when I am gone because I do not have them. I am left with a terrifying truth. I will not miss anything and if there is nothing to miss does that mean I have done and been all I was meant to and is it time for me to leave?
Ponder that for a wee bit.... I have to go make breakfast for my children and get them out the door.
It has been several days since I wrote this and later that day something drastically changed in my world. I was called into a meeting by the Executive Board
where I am employed part time and told that they had hired our Contracted Account Executive to be our Executive Director and I would work for him. I would hand everything over to him and my few hours would become even fewer hours because now they had to pay his salary. I smiled and paused and then asked if I could break this down. You want to take money from me to pay him and then I am supposed to call him boss? Insult on top of injury? Yes they say. Again I smile and inform them that I am NOT OK with this. Well that is how it is, was the response. They are giving me until Monday to make my decision. This was Thursday afternoon.....
An angel walks beside me, my job was my footie pajama, it is all of our footie pajamas. Our security, our means to provide not only for ourselves but others in and out of our circle. I glance back. What will I miss the most?
I take hold of the Angles hand and flip my long strawberry blonde hair while adjusting my tutu and ask; can we get on those horses and run?
