Friday, February 07, 2014

I'm going to tell you a story....

For some of you, this will be a shock.  Some of you will respond with "I had no idea about your mom".  Some of you will truly question my non-belief in the Lord, Jesus Christ.   And for some chills will run up your spine and tingle your toes.  And some won't give a damn, but I don't care because it is my story.  So there are three parts of the story...the beginning, the middle, and the foreverness.

Are you aware that when I was three years old my mother died of complications due to a hysterectomy?  No?  Doesn't surprise me actually because I know a lot of my high school now facebook friends had no idea.  Yes, a sad event.  I was only three but I have memories of my mom. And I know my dad and my siblings and my surrogate mothers and society did a pretty damn good job raising me.

From the earliest time that I can remember, three years old I guess, when I was laying down to go to sleep and the lights had been turned off, I would hear footsteps outside my room.  They were pacing back and forth.  When I was old enough to remember, those footsteps scared the shit out of me.  When I was in junior high and they would pace the hall at the condo, I came to accept it as my imagination.  When I was 24, I still heard those footsteps.  Years later, I would realize what those footsteps were.

Flash forward to college.  I went to NAU.  The first couple of years I had roommates that I went to high school with, but as I grew sick of them, I put a notice on the bulletin board and got a great one.  Her name was Jennifer and she was studying some theater crap or something like that.  (Jen-do you even use your degree because I know I don't).  We were roommates, hung out occasionally, but mostly were roommates.  I met her mom once or twice.  Today, Jennifer, her mom, and I are still friends and pretty damn close ones if I had to say.  We both moved to Phoenix after college, ended up in the same apartment complex (Lynwood Place), started hanging out more and developing our friendship to what it is today.  Jen's mom, Dani...she became one of those surrogate moms, but it wasn't until 1997.

Flash forward to 1997.  Many of you on facebook from LHC's graduating class of 1992, will remember the year.   Matter of fact, I used the same phone at work to receive the news of that tragedy and my enlightenment.   But 1997 wasn't just shadowed with the death of a family friend, Nikki, it was darkened by at least 6 other people who died within my large grasping circle.  Only one other year has been as tragic and that was 2007.  Kind of scary that those years are 10 years apart.  I'm a little nervous what 2017 has in store for me.  Anyway, I'm getting sidetracked, but it is all part of the story.

I am working for a private investigation firm when the administrative assistance (secretary is what we called her) told me I had a telephone call.  I was in the boss's office at the time and I stepped into the hall to take it.  The caller was Dani.  She said "Jen gave me your number and I hope you don't mind me calling at work".  Again, Dani and I were only acquainted because of Jen.  ACQUAINTED.  Not acquaintances, but acquainted.

I probably said something like "um, ok" thinking in my head if Jen isn't dead what the fuck do you want.  So Dani continues "I have something to tell you.  Are you open minded?"  In head-well if I'm not are you not going to tell me?  I said SURE.  And then she started to speak and by the end chills were running up my spine and tingling my toes.  And Dani and I are no longer acquainted, but we are the greatest of friends and she is one of my surrogate moms.

This is where some of you will get skeptical.  Some of you will relate.  Some of you will once again wonder how I do NOT believe in the Lord, Jesus Christ.  And some of you will think what you have always thought about me...I'm screwed in the head.  And you know what...this is my story so I don't give a shit what you think honestly.

So Dani continues....I was waiting for Jen to finish her eye surgery (lasik) and I was walking through this strip mall when I noticed a psychic.  Now I usually go to one once a year and usually the same one. But I saw this one and felt the need to go in.

Now let me sidestep here and say I've never been a believer in psychics.  But I do believe there are mediums and after reading the book The Eagle and the Rose by Rosemary Altea, I believe in them even more.

And Dani I was inquiring about a career change when the lady stops mid-sentence and says "Do you know someone named Sara" (again, remember Dani and I are acquaintances at this point).  Dani answers "yes".  The psychic then continues "and her mom died when she was real young?"  Dani answers "yes".

Now I don't know what Dani was thinking right then, but as she was telling me the hairs on the back of my neck were standing straight up.

The psychic continues...I have a message from Sara's mom for you to give to Sara.  (And yes I shit my pants at this point.  Ok not really, but mentally).  "When Sara can't grasp the feeling she is having or what's going on around her, that is just the presence of her mom.  And Sara should always know her mom is there with her".  Most likely I was speechless at this time.  I probably mumbled a thank you and hung up the phone.

As I laid down to sleep that night, I strained to hear those footsteps walking the hallway.  I have never heard those footsteps again, but I know that my mom is sitting right next to me as I type my story.

 My Mom