GOOD MORNING WORLD
I wrote my evening prayer and then went about the rest of the night watching TV and crocheting. A regular night in our household no great shakes. The night before Halloween . Watched some news and a new favorite show “Revolution” along with the latest DVR’d “Law and Order”. Then to bed. Pillow Talk. (That was a fun movie by the way).
Chatting about the day and my prayer for my mother on what would have been her 89th birthday. My sister had put a picture of our mother and written a post on her facebook page. It was a picture of Mommy in her youth on a diving board of a pool at a club. She looked very much like a movie star. She was a pretty lady all her almost 36 years on earth. Very young to die.
Those are the facts of what happened last night. My boyfriend fell asleep and all of a sudden I was crying. The tears were streaming out of my eyes. I immediately thought, “For goodness sake, you are 66 years old and what is this all about?” It seemed very odd.
Then I was alone and being transported in my mind as if by a fog and the fade in fade out of a movie back to my classroom in eighth grade. There was a knock on the door. As I mentioned in the blog about Time on March 9, 2013 the girl that knocked was Alice Tapley. In this bedtime fog I saw her face – such a pretty girl. I remember that I was confused as we are usually called to the office by the PA system. When Alice told my teacher I was wanted I simply got up and walked down the hall thinking the PA system was not working today. I went out of the wing into the High School and into the dark corridor by the chem lab and boys locker room past the Home Ec room to the office. As I lay there I was walking this walk again. I wondered where Alice was as she did not come back right behind me.
I saw our minister at the foot of the 2 foyer steps that led from the hall to the office. I smiled wondering what was up. As I came closer I could see he was not smiling. He spoke to me as I was turning the corner to go up the stairs and into the foyer.
This was a large entry space for the High School and it led down two steps to the gym. The trophy case was on one side of the foyer wall. On the other side was the ticket booth for games and plays and dances. In the front were the double doors that opened to the front of the school.
When I looked up to the door it was blocked by the body of a man with his hat in his hand and his shoulders drooped. He was wearing my father’s khaki winter jacket. I do not know what was said or how I knew what had happened and vaguely remember running across the foyer to his arms. I do remember the ashen white face and the shaking hug and my world falling apart. My boots and coat appeared and we went out to our ministers car. The rest of that day and week came to me as I lay there in tears 53 years after the fact.
One would think that this would fade with time. One would think that we would get over grief or move through it or grow out of it. Perhaps we do? We must or we would not be able to function in this world. Still grief, hurt? Perhaps they are like a scar or a birthmark that fades with time and never really goes away. They can flair up from time to time.
Last night the 66 yr old me decided grief and hurt remain, grown-ups handle it in other ways. I wondered what might have been or who I would have become if things had been different. Then I simply wiped my tears, blew my nose, rolled over to go to sleep very surprised that for a few minutes I had really been 12 again.
…..ONWARD TO MORE MISADVENTURE…