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Thursday, August 20, 2015

Riding Wild Horses

Disclaimer:  I probably should not drink and blog, while depressed.  Ah well, it is what it is.   You have been warned....

Lately has brought back a flood of memories of my very dear friend Stephanie..  who left this world too soon.  Which, though painful and depressing as hell..   all this emotion is actually quite welcome since I as a result I was given some old pictures of her.  God.. what a precious gift.  Pics from 1992.. the year I started at the answering service and I was put at the computer next to her.. and there she was sitting.. in her U2 concert shirt.. and then began the friendship.  

I have already cried my eyes out..  now I am immersing myself in the wonders of U2.   Our favourite band in the world.  My first U2 concert was with her.   November 1997.  6th row on the floor in front of the stage.  Standing on top of metal folding chairs, (the chairs were chained together) AND it was raining.  :)  It was awesome!!!

I remember when she first passed away in 2005.. I couldn't listen to U2 for about two years.  Even now, ten years later, there are still songs I can't listen to without weeping.

Stephanie and I had a song.  Okay well actually we had two of them.  The other one was Sinead O'Connor's "Nothing Compares 2 U".  (that's a whole 'nother story)...  But.. "Who's Gonna Ride Your Wild Horses" was "our" main song.

Why was this our song?  She said it always made her think of me.   I told her "things" I know that I "wasn't supposed to".   1992-93 was a major pivotal time of my life.. I was scared, and "didn't know what I wanted".  She was my trusted confidant.  I held nothing back.  She was a good listener, and she never judged.  I was "dangerous, because I was honest".  I trusted too easily..  She was forever trying to lovingly toughen me up.  God love her.

I was pregnant.  Not under good circumstances.  I was that "accident waiting to happen."  I always joke she delivered my baby.  Best ever Aunt who wasn't really an aunt. :)

I would have "lied, if she'd asked me to".  (She loved me enough she would never do that)  But at that age, we were young enough and snotty and spirited enough.. you never knew with us..

Steph's been gone almost ten years.   This November 18th..  

I go to were she's buried... still the grave is unmarked..  so I mark it myself with things I bring her.   

So now it's me driving there, to the cemetery.. "in the dirty rain... to the place where the wind calls her name."  

"Under the trees"  ironically next to a river...  it's actually beautiful where she was put to rest.  I hear her in the wind in the trees.  I feel her in the breeze.  She's everywhere, but she meets me there.  💜  She knows.. she's on the other side of that veil.  Almost like on the other side of a mirror.. I can't see her.. but I know she is there.  I know she watches out for me still.  Still being my friend.  

"Hallelujah...Heavens door..."

Dear God, that "door" she "opened"... "I just can't close".... even after ten years... because I want her back.  
Yes I am selfish.  And I. Don't. Care.  
Losing someone is NOT something you "get over".  It's not a cold.

Our "gypsy hearts"...   and I can't help but "look back".  Depression.. 

 "the deeper I spin.."

Who's going to take the place of her?  No one.  No one ever can.  She is still with me.  I feel her.

"You're dangerous 'cause you're honest
You're dangerous, you don't know what you want
Well you left my heart empty as a vacant lot
For any spirit to haunt

Hey hey sha la la
Hey hey

You're an accident waiting to happen
You're a piece of glass left there on the beach
Well you tell me things I know you're not supposed to
Then you leave me just out of reach

Hey hey sha la la
Hey hey sha la la

Who's gonna ride your wild horses
Who's gonna drown in your blue sea
Who's gonna ride your wild horses
Who's gonna fall at the foot of thee

Well you stole it 'cause I needed the cash
And you killed it 'cause I wanted revenge
Well you lied to me 'cause I asked you to
Baby, can we still be friends

Hey hey sha la la
Hey hey sha la la

Who's gonna ride your wild horses
Who's gonna drown in your blue sea
Who's gonna ride your wild horses
Who's gonna fall at the foot of thee

Oh, the deeper I spin
Oh, the hunter will sin for your ivory skin
Took a drive in the dirty rain
To a place where the wind calls your name
Under the trees the river laughing at you and me
Hallelujah, heavens white rose
The doors you open
I just can't close

Don't turn around, don't turn around again
Don't turn around, your gypsy heart
Don't turn around, don't turn around again
Don't turn around, and don't look back
Come on now love, don't you look back

Who's gonna ride your wild horses
Who's gonna drown in your blue sea
Who's gonna taste your salt water kisses
Who's gonna take the place of me

Who's gonna ride your wild horses
Who's gonna tame the heart of thee"

~Bono, U2

Thursday, February 19, 2015

Waiting For The Crows

I remember years ago I was watching an episode of 'Dharma & Greg'.   Abby's cycle had stopped, and, given her age, (40's presumably), she mistakenly thought she'd started menopause.  "I'm a crone!", she told Dharma as they happily hugged.  

My Southern ears didn't hear "crone".  I heard crow

Okay so in my mind,  crows make me think sunflowers.... and that makes me think of late summer...  leading into Autumn...  and a woman ending the summer of her life ..... and entering the Autumn....   Okay... don't judge me...  this made sense in my head.

So,  given I am but a short time before qualifying for AARP, (gulp), I can say with complete confidence that my baby-makin' days are over.  That's fine.  Yes I still have days I weep for the children I didn't get ..... (I dearly, DEARLY adore my two darling girls,  but yes I really would have preferred a whole houseful.) ...... But I digress.  I have grandbabies (hopefully one day) to look forward to... .....not that I am in any rush...  but one day I want to be a spoilin', cookie-bakin' grandma.  Yep.  Sounds good to me.  

My youngest child will be 15 this year.  I am on the verge of entering a new phase of my life...  gone is the maiden...   the child-bearing years ending....   please, God.......please let this be soon, I am tired of the Full Moon Rising.. .(if you get my meaning)...   and I'm ready for the next phase of my life to start.   

One night under a beautiful sky... I'm standing out in the yard, ......arms reaching Heavenward,....... looking longing into the Universe...  suddenly my reverie is interrupted by my eldest.  
"Momma, what are you doing?"
Me: (dreamily)  "Waiting for the crows to start circling.".

She looks at me..... expressionless...... 
and she turns and walks back into the house without a word.

'Moms being weird again.'

Later that evening I'm online...  reading about moon-times, herbal teas, and so forth...  when I see ......
it's NOT the 'crow' phase. 

  It's CRONE.

Well.  Don't I just feel like a duck.  

Fine.  Whatever.  I mispronounce things all the time.  Partially because my Southern tongue can't say non Southern words or expressions very well...  but it's mostly because I'm a hayseed.  Yeah, I admit it.  Anyway.

The Crone phase sounds lovely.  The Crone is the wise older woman of the tribe.  She's been there.  She's like the 'Wise Old Rafiki' like on the Lion King.   But.. without being a monkey.  :)   

I'm ready.  I know... in God's time... not mine.   

But if you see any crows..  point 'em in my direction.  :)

Just in case.

Tuesday, January 13, 2015

Spiritual Warfare? Things That Go Bump... Anytime...

I admit I am reluctant to post this entry.  It's been a while, and this will be nothing like previous entries.  In a nutshell, I believe that there is something/someone in our home.  No. I'm not crazy.  I never bring this up though...  I don't appreciate being made to feel crazy when I know in my heart that there is something there... and it's most certainly not my imagination.  It's been witnessed by others as well.

We bought our home and moved in on Memorial day weekend 1997.  The home was built in the mid 70s, in a subdivision.  Ranch style... no upstairs.. no basement...  good sized fenced in yard.  The previous owners had lived here for 8 years before selling the house to us.
Any owners prior to them I am unaware of, but I know others did own it before them.

Many years ago, this was all woods and farmland.  There was a nearby plantation, and this may or may not have been part of the outlying property.  We are also one mile North of a main train line...  and there is Civil War history here near us.  Camp Milton was about five miles away, and I've heard that just a half mile away was another smaller Civil War camp.
As far as the previous owners...    they were Indonesian.  I don't know what their religion was... but I recall seeing a shrine in the den (converted from a single car garage) with little elephants and tons of incense.  I remember being impressed by the amount of ash marks on the walls from all the incense that had been burned.   We met them at closing. They seemed nice.  Two sons.

Almost immediately after we moved in, I had the odd feeling of being watched.  One night, late, the television in the den came on by itself. Hubby was not home... he was working late.  My only child at the time, who was then a toddler, was asleep in her bed.  As I reached to turn the television off, the volume started turning up.  On its own.  Right in front of me. LOUD.  It was icy cold (fear?... because this is Florida and it was early summer)... and my heart was pounding.  I ran as fast as I could back to bed. I didn't sleep a wink the rest of the night.

Talking to my new neighbours, I learned that the previous owners had the grandfather living with them.  He passed away in that very den.  He was hard of hearing... but he liked tv and always turned it up loud so he could hear it.   When he passed, his family had him cremated.  And scattered his ashes all over the yard.   Something no one mentioned when we bought the house.  Probably not looked upon as a positive selling point.
*rolls eyes*

Almost 18 years later, we've gotten used to having someone else here.  He isn't hurting anything.  And somehow along the way we have had two others join in.  Why?  No idea. Maybe they were there all along but we just didn't know.   Who knows?  How do I know they're there?   We have had three different people... separate situations...  unaware of the other...  and don't know each other...  ask us about them.   They have even described them exactly the same.   I have never seen them.  I don't understand why some people have but most don't.  I cannot explain that.  But I know that there are three here.   The older grandfather who basically came with the house.  There is also a maybe 14 or 15 year old girl in old style dress...perhaps Civil war era... and a tall smiley man with long dark hair.   No clue who he is... or where he came from.  He has been around for years... and apparently likes me.  He watches me cook.   I am not sure how I feel about that.  Part of me is weirded out.  Part of me is curious.  It's very conflicting.

However.  Since there has never been a problem, and it's been, for the most part, uneventful, we have just accepted it and didn't worry about it.

Now things have changed.   Almost a week before Christmas, our brother in law passed away.  Around that time is when the knocking started.

I was sitting at the dining room table.  Youngest daughter was in her room.  Eldest daughter and hubby were both at work.  There was a distinct knock on the window pane in our front room next to the front door.  Literally, several knocks in succession...  like a friend would do.. except... everyone we know would either knock on the door or ring the doorbell.

I got up to peer through the window to see who knocked. Almost immediately there was another knock... same distinct succession of knocks...  directly behind me.  I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand up... and my heart was about to pound out of my chest.  I turned...  and it knocked again.. very deliberately...  on our home school bookshelf.  I nearly stroked out.  It dawned on me that I was being played with.  "Stop that.  You're not funny." I tell my unseen visitor.

The day after Christmas is when we discovered that we had a leak.  In the pipe behind the stove...  which backs up to a wall.. and on the other side is the home school bookshelf.   The knocks have continued every day.  Sometimes they're very loud.  We moved the bookshelf to a different wall...  it's still in the front room, but now is backed up to the wall which... on the other the den.  The knocking is on that wall now, next to the bookshelf.   Even our dogs will sit quietly and stare in that direction.  No barking or growling... but they know that there is something there.

It's been about three weeks since the knocking started.  We are still waiting for the insurance company to decide what they will cover, but that pipe is "off" so no more leak.   The knocking sound cannot be pipes since (a) that pipe was dealt with, and (b), the wall that the knocking has moved to has no pipes in it, and (c), there are certainly no pipes in the window pane.

Once we get the repairs done and things looking normal again, I am going to call our priest and have our house blessed.  I am not sure what else to do.