Wandering With Spirit

Father’s Day — First father’s day without my husband. Temperature had finally lowered from the 90’s. In fact, it was in the high 70’s and very comfortable. I convinced myself to go for a walk. Before going to the camper I tried to walk every day. Although I didn’t see a drastic reduction in weight, it did drop by a few ounces. The scale at the camper reported that I had gained 2 lbs. I continued to walk anyway. I thought it paid off, I was able to walk for over an hour and a half at Wal-Mart without getting tired.

Back home, my weight was down 2 lbs. Since I KNOW I need to lose weight, I try to walk everyday outside. FIRST TIME since last summer I went for a walk in sandals. NO STOCKINGS. FREEDOM. My sandals are heavy duty — they provide a lot of support. My plan for the walk quickly changed when I saw a friend. EXCEPT the person I saw was not my friend but a person who looked like her cleaning her porch.

I talk to anyone whose path crosses mine. I decided to walk a little bit further and check out a place that usually had beautiful flowers. That led me to benches by a church — a lovely place to sit for a minute. I enjoyed a father walking his toddler around and around a four way crossing. The little one enjoyed her father lifting her over a curb. Dad had patience and I laughed when they went around and around for the third time.

I met Barbara, 82 years young, who reminded me to drink water. I showed her the little 8 oz bottle I had with me. She replied that I needed to drink much more than that. She lost her husband when she was 48 and raised her sons as a single mother. Barbara reminded me of my grandmother.

Home again, I started to write a thought ramble. I had a little bit of trouble saving it. Thinking about that — one plus one equaled a solution. Correct? I don’t know. I usually don’t link my thought rambles but there is always a first time for everything. I remembered the dropped spill pan and the trouble with my car going to the camper. I remembered the erased message. I wonder if the dropped spill pan was a warning for the problem with the cars speed. Were they warnings that I didn’t understand?

Now I’m confused. I was texting a message to my family. Sometimes I’m wordy, this was one of those times. I might have written four or five sentences. Since it occurred a couple of weeks ago, I’m not sure what the message was about. My guess was that it was about the car. No sooner had I typed the final period, reached for the send button and the whole thing DISAPPEARED. I quickly remembered this happening to me before. In fact, it was soon after my father passed over. I was writing TO PAP, WITH LOVE. Sentences would disappear as if there was a Packman gobbling them up. Sometimes it was complete paragraphs. But in the messages I exchange in the family, I haven’t experienced this before.

Editing has continued, of course. If when I’m writing a thought ramble, the subject or the content doesn’t pass, the thought ramble doesn’t save. BUT IT DOESN’T DISAPPEAR. I can reread the thought. I have time to fix the problem.

Since it is now apparent that my reasoning has big holes in it, I have decided that instead of crediting a specific person, I’ll just credit my “team.”

Once again heading to the country, this time it was just Robin and I — my son remained home. My car didn’t seem to pick up the speed it needed getting on the expressway. All during the drive, my car worried me. It was not maintaining its speed. It speeded up, it slowed down. I didn’t seem to be putting more pressure on the gas pedal or less. When it really started to slow down, I mashed the pedal a little bit more.

I had convinced myself to call our mechanic out there on Monday. Friday, after driving to the store in town, the service engine light appeared. The I was uncertain about driving it. Thankfully our mechanic was able to fix it on Tuesday. He took it for a drive on Monday, and realized it drove “like a dog.” And FOUND THE PROBLEM. It was a dream to drive on Wednesday.

I am extremely lucky in many ways. My father wasn’t prejudiced. Neither was his family. I never heard an unkind word about another person because of his color or race. A person’s actions could bring a bit of displeasure but since my familie’s lives were far from easy they didn’t judge others without reason.

Growing up I’ve lived in many different unusual buildings and areas. As a young girl I was never worried when I was outside in the dark in a mixed neighborhood but sadly it did cause my father some grief. I have gone to school and worked with people of all races.

My husband grew up in the south and learned prejudice from his family. Army life helped to change him a little. It changed him enough that we were able to welcome an elderly colored man into our family. We raised our children to accept a person for his worth, not race or color. Our youngest daughter just wrote an amazing article crediting her two grandfathers, one blood and the other adopted.

This year, 2020, is unusual for many reasons. Personally for me I have lost my husband, a major part of my life. Add that to the pandemic that has caused our nation to remain secluded — many people are out of work — have no money and are HUNGRY. Growing up — my life wasn’t easy. There were many times when supper was on the leaner side. The long lines — cars waiting for food bring back memories that are not necessarily pleasant.

The weather temperature and humidity has risen. Many forces, along with the heat, has our nation on the brink of explosion. The death of a young man of color by a policeman was all that was needed to cause an explosion. Our leader is no hope. I could go on and on but I will refrain. Pregnant, I worked downtown in 1968 and experienced the city on fire because of the death of Martin Luther King. Thankfully we live in a reasonably good neighborhood. I was surprised when we came back from the country and saw many buildings boarded up. We left town for more than three days and have received NO MAIL.

I listen to all of the good works that many people are doing and feel ashamed that I am not able to contribute. Is it my age? Energy level? Circumstances? I don’t know but I will continue to daily pray for our world. ALL OF THE PEOPLE, ALL NATIONS, SEXES AND COLOR. Thankfully I am color blind. I would LOVE TO MET AN ALIEN.

The ability to learn doesn’t end when you pass over to the other side. My father learned how to manipulate a computer and the printer. Life on earth he was a printer, knew typesetting — he took those skills with him and added on. My husband was very good with cars on earth. Not only did he take those skills with him, but added on.

A few days after my husbands death, our middle daughter thought she should drive back to the mountain. Her car worked beautifully here in the city. It took my husband to many appointments and treatments. The day of her planning to travel, she moved it closer to the house in order to make it easier to pack. Loaded, ready to leave, the car wouldn’t start. She needed a new battery.

Recently two mountain roads where closed because of accidents. My daughter needed to go to the store so she took a seldom used road. Half way down the mountain her oil light came on. She pulled over to the side and phoned her husband for help. He brought oil but the car REALLY DIDN’T NEED IT. He checked out the car but everything was fine. My daughter drove back home to wait for a better day.

When she told me the story, I reminded her that her father was helping her again. He didn’t think she should be traveling . I’m sure I have written about this before. It has surfaced again because:

We came back from the camper — over a hundred mile drive on Wednesday. Thursday I went to Aldi’s shopping for needed items. Friday I went shopping at Trader Joe’s. I was already planning my next big shopping trip for next week when the weather hopefully cooler off. Arriving home, my son noticed part of the car was almost dragging on the ground. I suggested he take it to the mechanic around the corner. He came back without the car. It only needed a bolt which they weren’t going to charge us for but when they put it up on the rack they noticed I needed front brakes.

It is extremely humid and the temperature is heading for the 90’s. My weight is UP!. I don’t do well in the heat. I guess I’m supposed to stay home. Thanks Honey. I’m so glad you are taking care of me!

Recently our son and I drove out to the camper. I hadn’t been out there since October of last year when we closed up. When I packed up, I was expecting my husband to journey out with me. I’m sure he was there, in spirit just not in body form. In fact, that notion was confirmed when our youngest daughter told me she had the most unusual dream. It had never occurred before. She dreamt she was talking to her father on the phone, he told her I was coming out to the camper and he would be there too.

Opening the door — it was just as I left it. His shirt was hanging on a chair. His books were by the lamp on the table. His coffee cup was ready for a refill. And if I’m honest — that is the way the camper looked when we locked up to come home. His shirt is still on the chair, but I moved his books and the lamp. I moved his coffee cup but even though it is from Duncan Doughnuts — many years old, I’m not sure if it is leaving this year. The only thing of his that left the camper were two pair of shoes that were not good enough to donate.

I hadn’t planned to go through his clothes. I stuck to my plan. I received a few surprises. I don’t know where my brain was back in October. Many things that I would have taken home were still there. I opened a cabinet door looking for coffee — I found sauces –Worcestershire, balsamic vinegar, rice vinegar, olive oil? ?? They should have come home. I stopped at the store to pick up ketchup and a few other staples. Putting the new bottle away, I found a bottle from last year. Is it still good? I didn’t take the time to look. For safety I might just toss it.

I wondered if I still had my spices stored or had I taken them home. Taking the lid off the metal can they were stored in, I found it was filled to the brim. I didn’t look to see what might be missing. I left that for another time. I found a canister full of coffee, all of my tea and many, many bags of Splenda. I found a new home for the Splenda since I’m still able to use sugar.

We took the opportunity to shop for new chairs for the deck. The seat on our old ones were sagging and it slid when I tried to stand up. Thankfully we found new chairs and a friend picked them up for me from the store. It should make sitting out on the deck not only more comfortable but safer.

We only stayed a couple of days. The next trip will have to be longer. Maybe I will start going through the clothes. BABY STEPS!

My mother and brother passed over in a fire when I was four years old. Every once and awhile I looked for my mother. I was in the hospital when she passed and didn’t learn of her passing until months went by. She was probably very aware of how stubborn and independent I was. Looking back, I’m sure there were many times when she came to my aid. Her “help” became more apparent when my father’s memory declined because of Alzheimer’s disease. Often I was were I needed to be or found something that saved my father from harm. When my father passed over he let the cat out of the bag. It wasn’t very long before I realized that “help” was coming from more than my father — my mother and brother were involved also. (Yesterday was my brother’s birthday. I hit my head on a cabinet door, along with banging the hat on my head in a few places. I’ve often credited him with things falling on my head — including a toilet seat.)

When my husband passed — my family was well aware that “help” was often received from the other side. My middle daughter had a talk with her deceased father, asking him to haunt me and leave her alone. He didn’t listen. The day she prepared to drive her car back to the mountains, it did not start. She needed a new battery. I don’t know how often he “helps” her with her life. She has told me that he is often in her dreams.

My husband liked to connect with his children, brothers and sisters, and friends when I was shopping. He DID NOT MIND driving me. He disliked going into the store. So he sat in the car, read a book or talked on the phone. WE ALL ARE MISSING THOSE CHATS!

Last week, my mountain daughter was heading to the store. Because of the weather, 2 roads coming off the mountain were closed by accidents. She headed for a road she seldom used. Half way down the road the oil light on her car came on. She pulled over to the side and called her husband for help. NOTHING WAS WRONG WITH HER CAR. OIL WAS BARELY DOWN. I suggested her father didn’t think she should be out and about and stepped in to “help.”

About that time I found a lovely cookbook at Wal-Mart written by Jacques Pepin. I opened the book at home to an article on bread — finishing the meal with bread and lots of butter. That morning I opened the Bible to Tobit — a story of how a person’s sight had been restored. The identity of the person helping had been revealed — It was Raphael, Archangel in charge of healing. (I think I just mentioned this last week.) When I wrote the thought ramble, the story really hadn’t ended . I had dropped an arthritis pill on the floor and COULD NOT FIND IT. Getting out a broom, I swept the area without success. Putting the broom back, I found the pill in a corner far removed from where I was sitting. Next I took a photo of the drawing of Raphael that hangs over my husbands side of the bed. I sent the photo to one of my daughters. A photo of my husband popped up for a second during the transmission. Thankfully he LOVES to “help.”

Many years ago I got in the habit of starting the day with spiritual readings — Queen Of Angels and the Bible. I open both books randomly. If I open the bible to a section that is often repeated , I might only read a tiny part. I dislike reading about the battles. This morning I opened Queen Of Angels to FROM HUMAN LOVE TO DIVINE LOVE. Then I opened the Bible to Tobit11:9 Sight Restored. I seldom open to Tobit so I read not only that chapter but included the following RAPHAEL REVEALS HIS IDENTITY.

Many years ago I attended a Mind Body Spirit Expo in which an artist and author gave a workshop on angels. At the end of the workshop I saw an angel , wings outspread on the back wall. I was amazed. It is unusual for me to see images but it is a gift that rarely occurs. I mentioned to the artist that she left one of her angels behind. She gave me a rendition of Raphael which I had framed and hangs over my husband’s side of the bed. Thinking back I might have received the print when he was recovering from Colin cancer.

Yesterday I braved the elements and went shopping at Wal-Mart. I missed senior hours but the line hadn’t started yet. My list was lengthy. The last time I was in the store, my knees were yelling so badly I had to find a place to sit. This time I made it through without knees yelling. They started when cart was unloaded to the car. Thankfully I didn’t need meat — there was no chicken, pork or beef. Some ground meat but not much.

I wish I could report that I hurried, stuck to the list and quickly finished my shopping. WRONG! Hurry is no longer in my wheel house. Snail slow pace, penguin wobble is more like it. I did refer to my list just to refresh my memory. I did find a pair of no memory foam men’s shoes but no slippers. I did find a silk bunch of poppies and daisies to put in a vase.

There are a few chefs that I enjoy watching. One of my favorites is Jacques Pepin. I don’t know if I have ever made any of his recipes but I own a couple of his cook books. I now have another one. Passing a bin, my eyes saw Grandfather’s Lessons in the Kitchen With Shorey. It not only contains recipes but also line drawings and notes from his granddaughter. This morning I opened to a note on bread. My husband LOVED his bread. The weather is getting warmer. I enjoy reading cookbooks. I’m sure I will enjoy reading this one. I might even cook something.

Sadly the daily news reports the number of new deaths caused by the virus. The numbers continue to grow as do the reports of small funerals and people passing alone. I might have finally come to grips with the fact that I wasn’t present when my husband passed. When we crossed the bridge from the wound center to the emergency room, I felt my husband left. He didn’t speak in the hours that we waited in the emergency room. Was he asleep? Was his spirit already leaving? I’ll never know the answer to those questions.
And does it really matter? Both his son and daughter kept vigil. My son told me that he was glad I wasn’t there.

I’ve written that I’m extremely fortunate that I have interactions with the other side. My husband sent me a message the morning that he had passed. I was too upset to realize it at first. My colored pens were missing. I looked, and looked and LOOKED without success. I finally opened a box that contained pens I hadn’t used in a while. The box contained something even more important. It had a message from my husband that accompanied a butterfly wrapped in a red silk pouch.. This represents a: Life, b: endurance, c: hope, d: and change.

I don’t remember how many days passed before I realized that he had sent me a message. I wasn’t expecting him to die. My children were. His health and vitality diminished every day. I was praying that God would heal him and He did. Just not in the way I had expected.

This thought ramble will publish after my anniversary of beginning to write Wandering With Spirit. I am EXTREMELY LUCKY. Days, months pass for many who have lost loved ones without any interaction. Thankfully a day or two might pass before I’m aware of “their help.” My husband has joined my “team.” The “team” is composed of my mother, brother and father. My husband has joined them and just possibly leading the way. I don’t know how many of my other relatives and friends are involved from time to time. And I would be ungrateful if I didn’t include the dogs and cats that are probably there too.

I have to admit that I am EXSTREMELY DISPLEASED with myself. I have gained weight and can not seem to lose it. I have lost my ability to walk for a mile. Although I have committed to reversing these problems, I’m not quickly seeing results. I’ve mentioned that I wrote about my introduction to “help” from the other side in my book JOURNEY WITH ME. (Sadly I’ve looked for it on line without success.)

The other day it fell onto the floor. I opened it to THE PROJECT. And laughed. In the Project, I replaced the hatch on our roof that had rotted leaving in rain and snow. I DO NOT HAVE CARPENTER ABILITIES. It took more than THREE DAYS and many trips to the lumber company before it was finished. In the story, I kept repeating that I was not like my father. I didn’t have his skill, his abilities. When I accomplished the task, it ended with “I’m like my father.” and I laughed.

My youngest daughter’s comment was “hugs from heaven” when I shared the story. My husband has confidence in me. I’M TRYING.