Special Edition - R.I.P. Mom

On Friday, September 14, 2012 my mother Patsy Bradford-Bearkley passed from this life. She fought a long hard battle with cancer, but now she fights no more and has real rest. I love you Momma! Till we meet again.

http://jaynesemptynest.blogspot.com/2011/12/2010-it-begins.html

#18 Food Poisoning!

I'll never forget it was a Hardee's burger that did me in. I once remember someone telling me that you can't mistake real food poisoning. There is no doubt about it. The other thing they had told me was that there was nothing for it. That all you really do is wait for it to run it's course through your system. The very thing that I had feared had happened, I had gotten sick and was alone.  As fluids continued to leave my body by any means necessary, I was getting weaker and weaker. The pain was horrible. It didn't take long before I came to the conclusion that I really did need to go to the hospital. But I also knew I was unable to drive as I was doubled up in pain. My closest family member was 3 to 4 hours away and it was after 10pm. Suddenly I thought of Eleanor a close friend of the family who was also a legit Christian woman.

Not only did Eleanor come by to take me to the hospital but she came with Ginger-ale, crackers, & Pepto-Bismol. She was indeed an angel in human disguise. After getting to a point of thinking that there was nothing else left to leave my body, I was ready to attempt a trip to the hospital. I don't ever remember feeling this bad in life before. I was so happy to not have to be alone as I attempted the feat of standing and walking. There was a problem though. I found out that what I thought was insurance that I was paying monthly for, was really a discount program that no one seemed to accept. I was going to be stuck with the bill. But when you think you're close to a near death experience you don't care about such financial arrangements. 

As I waited for the doctor, just knowing that I was getting ready to get fluids, I saw the room spinning. I think they took blood. And if they did, I think it was to verify whether or not I had had an infection. As it turned out I did not. I instead had had food poisoning. I tried not to recall all of the past stories I had read about people dying from under-cooked salmonella hamburgers as I hung on for dear life. The doctor comforted me with stories of employees not washing their hands instead. Relief, I think not! As I waited for fluids, I think I saw the Doctor for a mere 15 minutes, if even that. But of course I had been waiting around the emergency room and in the back for over 5 hours plus for those 15 golden minutes to arrive. Well, the fluids never did come. I was given a prescription to help with the pain of the stomach cramps but of course nothing to help with the food poisoning. When Eleanor took me home, the sun had begun rising. She had stayed with me the whole night. 

Days passed before I was any good again. And I had faced a major fear of living by myself and getting sick. Soon the bill arrived in the mail, the combination of the hospital and the doctor came to over $500.00 for the 15 minutes of info and prescription writing. When I had left the emergency room that night, they had advised me to follow-up with my own doctor, with whom I normally paid $130.00 per office visit. Needless to say I toughed it out and didn't go to see my doctor whom I knew wouldn't be doing a thing for food poisoning. I think it also goes without saying that I have not eaten at Hardee's again since. Sometimes a $5.00 meal really costs $500.00 instead.  

To Be Continued...

The pink stuff!

Two meals in one. 

#17 A Little Birdie & Her Dog

Half a year had gone by before I had gotten a visit from one of my children, the female birdie. By this time I had missed her birthday and my son's for the first time in 26 & 22 years. Celebrating their birthdays had always been a major deal for me. For one birthday we had gone to Las Vegas and for another we had gone to Disneyland. So, to not be able to celebrate with them almost tore me up. However for me, I had almost totally stopped celebrating my birthday because it represented a painful event in my life. No, not growing older but an emotional situation with a loved one. A couple of years ago the children had managed to bring back the celebration of birthdays for me.

My daughter is my oldest child. She had managed to finesse her schedule to be able to visit with her little dog, Ayasha (which means little one in Native American). Yes, Ayasha was small enough to fit in a purse size carrier. My daughter was the black version of Elle Woods in Legally Blonde, but without the wealth. However, my daughter wore red instead of Elle's pink. But I digress. They had flown in and I'm sure Ayasha was ready to be free once and for all from her purse carrier. I was so excited to see my little birdie and my grand-dog. While they were on this side, I had planned a whirlwind tour that included traveling to 3 states to see relatives.  But we weren't the only ones traveling, plans had been made for my 90 year old grandmother and my aunt to come to see us. It's not that we wouldn't have gone to see them, it's just that they wanted to travel with us to go see my mother as a 71st birthday surprise. I have to say that I was a little worried about traveling with my grandmother and Ayasha in the same car. But all of those worries vanished as my grandmother totally fell in love with the little dog. For a moment I was thinking we needed to get my grandmother a little lap dog companion. The dog even got great great-grandparent money like little children get. Ayasha was in like Flynn.

When we arrived in Virginia to see my mother it was known that we were only going to be there for 3 days. After those three days I would also have to say good bye to my daughter and grand-dog. Their visit would be over and I would have to adjust to being by myself again after such a wonderful treat. It was nice to be able to share a house with my daughter after being apartment dwellers for most of her life. Only briefly in Detroit did I ever live in a house with my children and that was when they were young. It wasn't just being in a house that was different, but I was a very different person as well. Over the last six to seven months, I had settled down and become more domestic. I was cooking full meals from scratch. This was something that had been kicked to the curb in California as I was running from work to church and back again. I was now able to spoil my child like I really wanted to do as a stay at home mom.

My mother did not expect us to celebrate her birthday when we all visited her since we were a week before it. So she was genuinely surprised when she came into her kitchen to a cake lit up with candles as 4 generations sang happy birthday to her. I was happy and sad all at once. In the back of my mind I kept wondering, would this be my mother's last birthday? At the last minute plans changed and I had decided to let my daughter go back two days earlier with my grandmother and aunt since they stayed only an hour away from the airport and I was 3 hours away. I can't explain the hurt and emptiness that filled my heart as their car drove away from my Tennessee home. My only comfort was knowing that I would get to do the same type of visit with my son when he made it out next.

To Bee Continued...

Ayasha modeling her bee outfit
(Doesn't she just look thrilled?)

      

#16 Jamaica IS the House!

In 2010 I had agreed to go to a track meet with my ex-husband - an out of town track meet. In fact in the past, track had played an important role in our relationship. I was introduced to him by my father when I had visited for a summer vacation back in the 70's. He was my track work-out partner. And then 20 something years later, when my daughter was in high school on the track team, I ran into him at a track meet. He was coaching track and I was a volunteer coach for the boy's shot put. He asked me that day what I was doing for my birthday which was several months away and asked if he could take me out for my birthday and if I would join him for his, the month after mine. We had know each other as friends, double digits ago and I had no problem with the arrangements. A year later we would marry against my father's wishes. It was my second marriage and his first at the age of 48.

Track was our mutual love. So even though we were divorced by 2010 we had managed to return to our friendship, that should have stayed a friendship. I had not a tempted bone in my body and didn't think for a moment that it would have been a problem to go to the Penn Relays in Philadelphia in 2011. So I got on a plane and met my ex in Pennsylvania. Keep in mind I was still in "love" with Mr. Dreams (see #13 Dreaming of Love) . We were still talking everyday 2 to 3 times a day since March and the Relays were in April that year. I was not surprised when my ex showed up to the airport with roses and a box of Godiva chocolates. He was almost predictable that way and I was not moved by the gesture. First, I still remembered the mental abuse I had encountered with this person. And second, he always had a robotic, non-romantic way of doing things like following textbook instructions with no emotions available. Yes, once I was blinded by the gestures of flowers and chocolates but that was over 10 years ago when I didn't know any better, not anymore.

As we reverted back to our friendship, it was stress free. There we were enjoying Philly Cheese Steaks at a legit Philly Diner! It really was fun. But nothing prepared us for the greatest treat of all. Little did we know but the whole island of Jamaica along with every Jamaican that now lived in the U.S. had turned out for the Penn Relays. Everywhere we went we heard the unmistakable Jamaican accent. It was soooo cool. It was like being in Jamaica not Pennsylvania. Suddenly, we had traveled out of the country instead of within the country!! And when we were at the track meet - Jamaica was everywhere!!! I loved it! There I was in my locks looking the part as long as I kept my mouth shut. Unfortunately I was also missing my green and yellow attire that everyone seemed to have been wearing. Had I known, I would have worn something to represent and not have stuck out like a sore thumb. And when Jamaica won 1st place in the USA  vs. The World Men 4x100 (3rd time in 4 years) the stadium erupted into a frenzy!!! When I looked around I could not have been convinced that anyone was still on the island, they all had to have been at the meet!

I had made the right decision. We had come together to enjoy something that we once had bonded over. No incidents, just pure friendship. I even agreed to future track meets as long as it worked out with my future social life. That was always our deal. If we weren't in a relationship, we agreed to meet for another special occasion as friends without benefits. He did however asked me to marry him again, but I declined. I knew that a good friendship was always better than a bad marriage. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.

To Be Continued...

The Penn Relays 2011

   

#15 Oh Hail! No!

It was April of 2011 and I was not prepared for the strange weather that was about to hit the southern and eastern regions. Everyday that I woke up I immediately turned on the TV to find out what time the storms were predicted to hit. Many times I planned my showers and meals around the storms. There's nothing like wanting to eat and suddenly the power is off, or wanting to take a shower and there's an electrical storm. It was during this season that I learned that I wasn't afraid to be in the house alone. But I have to admit there were some close calls.

One of the unusual things about my dreams are that I can have a dream within a dream. One where you think you've awaken from a dream only to realize later that you are still dreaming. Well, that's what had happen one night. The unfortunately part about my dreams within a dream is that they usually seemed like normal everyday moments until something happens to awaken you to the next dream. I was in the bed as a storm was happening when suddenly the roof caved in above me. I awaken to see the sky through the roof and pieces of ceiling on the floor next to the bed. Frightened I rolled out of bed and hit the floor on the other side and started gathering things that I thought I needed to get out of the room before the rest of the roof collapsed. That's when I really woke up to the sound of pine cones hitting the roof of the house (for real). Needless to say I was a little shaken especially since I could hear things hitting the roof after having such a dream.

Then there was the time that hail the size of golf balls hit the house. I must say I was a little shaken over this one too. I was on the phone with Mr. Dreams (see #13 & #14) when it hit! He prayed with me while the storm hit. There I was in the bathroom with all of my emergency supplies as I listened to huge chunks of ice pounding on the roof. Once the storm had passed, I went outside to collect the largest hail I had ever seen. Sure, some have seen softball size hail, but this was big enough for me. I later learned that tornadoes had touched down in my area as well. And then there was the falling tree. One of the huge trees that stood in the front yard was hollow. Of course I didn't find that out until it fell on the power lines in the front yard during one of the storms. Previously, branches had chunked off and I could hear them crackle and fall, hoping for them to not hit the house. But eventually, that did finally happen. Fortunately it did not damage the house, except for the gutter!

I remember thinking that this was not what the weather was suppose to be like down south. But then again, the weather was not suppose to be like that in many parts of the country. Earthquakes were reported in Virginia, New York, New Jersey, Washington, D.C., and North Carolina.  In addition, 289 tornadoes were reported in 15 states over the course of 3 days. It was ranked as one of the largest tornado outbreaks in history. Truly it was to become a year of strange events, even personally, since I had agreed to go to a track meet in Philadelphia with my ex-husband. As stated in #1 2010 It Begins, I was once again friends with my ex and had decided that he understood that we could be friends (without benefits) and meet in Pennsylvania for the Penn Relays. Hopefully it would be a good trip with no incidents. Right?

To Be Continued...

Hail next to a quarter

The tree branch that hit the house

#14 Mr. Dreams aka Mr. Honey Badger

There I was on the phone with, I will call him for now,  Mr. Dreams. The persistence of Mr. Dreams was remarkable. It was as if he already knew about the dreams and just wanted me to admit to them. Before we got off the phone he had successfully gotten out of me the fact that I had had dreams with him in them. He also had managed an exchange of email addresses. It wasn't even 30 minutes after ending the phone call when I checked my email and found that I had one from him thanking me for the great conversation. For the record I was quite vague as to what the dreams were. Unfortunately, Mr. Dreams was on a mission to get details and so he continued to contact me to honey badger it out of me.

And oh, he did get me to talk, but not all at once. I held my own too. But bit by bit I revealed all the details of the dreams, which could easily have been interpreted the wrong way. This did not satisfy his curiosity. Now he wanted to know why I had had the dreams. Like I knew! I remember speaking to the Lord asking him why I had had not one, but two dreams with this man in them? After asking question after question, day after day, I found that I did have an interest in Mr. Honey Badger. In fact, because of our many conversations, I was able to find a new church home in my area that propelled my walk with the Lord. But there was still a nagging as to why I had had the dreams and why two? It was normal for me to contact people who randomly showed up in my dreams. But no, I don't always tell them I had a dream about them and rarely do I tell them the dream unless it feels comfortable to. But this situation was different. It was more intense and I had found myself in a quandary as to what to do about it.

Days turned into months, and finally months turned into a year. I purposely didn't call him when we communicated so that I would at least know that it was his desire to talk. I had become spoiled waiting for my morning, afternoon, and evening calls. He had been the first voice I had heard in the mornings and the last one before I had fallen asleep. I think we must have been speaking everyday for 10 months before we had a break in communications which finally led to weekly calls. But what I found out to my knowledge was that the embrace of love that I had experienced in the first dream (see #13 Dreaming of Love), ended up being the church home that I had found through him. It may have been almost a year before I finally realized that. In my mind, I just knew that it had to be something special between me and Mr. Dreams (aka Mr. Honey Badger) but he never gave me that permission that was granted in dream #2 to come on in (see #13 Dreaming of Love). If there was ever meant to be anything more between us, I would never know. The good news was that at least he lived in another state and I didn't have to deal with him face to face. At least I did have my new church home, and a new found friend in him.

I don't think he ever came to grips with the fact that I had fallen for him through a dream. But like I had told him, the dream had started the interest, but he had perpetuated it through our conversations. Yes, within the year that we had communicated, I had shared my interest in him. However, he never could get his head wrapped around why I would have liked him like that, especially since I had not felt anything personal for him before. All I have to say to that is, if anyone had felt the love shared like it was in my dream, they would have been in love too. Fortunately, in the end I was in love, but it was more in love with the Lord.

To Be Continued...

Bring me a dream!
by JaMax

Honey Badgers don't quit!
from http://www.eversostrange.com/2011/09/17/261/

#13 Dreaming of Love

Well, it had been 5 months and I was starting to learn how to be at one with one, me. At the time, my mom was recovering from surgery in rehab. She was finally alert too, so I went back to Tennessee to recover my own self. Since I was limited on money I had to find ways to be my own, cheap date. Then it occurred to me, Red Box! For the first time since my move I decided to rent a movie. A dollar wasn't too much to spend for 2 hours of entertainment. As I continued to be my own best friend, I started doing things like, going on artist's dates. Something that was an activity out of a book I had purchased many years ago, The Artist's Way. Since then, I've always tried to use it at various times of my life to make progress in the areas of art and life.

Back in 1993, I had a dream that changed my life up to this date. I dreamt about artwork that I had made in the dream and when I woke up I tried to recreate the art that I had seen. (See "The First Piece" http://clothsculptures.blogspot.com/2011/02/first-piece.html ) Painting, music, dance, photography, theater, and writing had all been important to me while growing up. All one had to do was look at my old high school year books and the evidence was there. Sports was also important to me. My father who was a P.E. professor at a state college while I was growing up was also a college football coach. But because of my parent's divorce, I grew up in Upstate New York while he was in California. I had always joked with my mother that if I had been a boy I would have played football. So I did the next best thing, I participated in sports, period. Over my high school years I played volleyball and track, plus I threw in a little choreography for the gymnastics team and even became a basketball cheerleader one year. I may have even been the first black cheerleader at my school, but don't quote me on that. But I digress, back to the events of 2011. Because of my love of art, part of my new environment needed to reflect that especially since I was still creating cloth sculptures. So, I turned one of the rooms into a den/studio.

It was on March 30, 2011 that I had 2 dreams that made a ripple in my world again. The first one was about an embrace while watching TV. The person was hugging me from behind as we lay stretched out on a couch. There was a closeness, a warmth, a comfort enveloping me. It had the same feeling I get when I've entered into high praise and worship, the very glow of God surrounding me. What a powerful feeling! I still have it as if it were a memory, my mind not recognizing it as a dream but as a waking memory to be recalled upon and relived. I woke up reflecting on the dream and not much later, I fell back to sleep and had a second dream with the same person who had hugged me in the first dream. In the second dream, the person was in pain and I helped him. But I remember very clearly that I had to ask him if I could enter the room where he was at in order to help. When I awoke from the second dream. Three things were important here, #1 I had never awakened from a dream and had the same person in the next dream, #2 the experiences in the dreams were as if they were real not like regular dreams vague and sketchy, and #3 I knew the person in my dreams. It was someone I had not spoken to or seen in over 10 years.

The other thing about this person was, it was someone that I had never dated before. I had never so much as had more than a side church-like hug from this person. I had first met him about 30 years ago and saw him from time to time out in the community. My thoughts were, why would someone I knew only slightly and had never meditated on, be in a dream of mine in such a personal way? And why would he be in two dreams in one night? I found a way to contact him since my normal practice was to contact people when they randomly appeared in my dreams. I also always wanted to check on their physically and spiritually well-being. Thankfully he was doing well. He had however, experienced a major surgery within the last 3 months but he was doing well. But he couldn't get over why all of a sudden out of the blue I had sought him out. Prior we had never spoken over the phone before. Up till then all there was, were 5 minute updates on how we were doing since the last we had run into each other in a parking lot or hallway. And he kept on being persistent, pressing the issue of why all of a sudden did I contact him? But I was embarrassed. I didn't want to tell him, "Hey, you were in my dream and we were in love!"

To Be Continued...

2 as 1 - Unique Cloth Sculpture by JaMax

The Sun, The Son - Unique Cloth Sculpture by JaMax  

#12 Busted!

Since my arrival, my mother's health had been pretty good. Even though she was no longer in remission, she kept our attitudes up instead of us needing to help keep her spirits raised. It was in the afternoon in March 2011, when I got the call that my mother was being admitted into the hospital. I packed light and was in the car scheduled to be there by 8:00pm. That was the beauty of being 4 hours away in Tennessee verses living in California, so very far away. But before I could get there I received another call which informed me she was going in for emergency surgery. It was then that I put the pedal to the metal to get there before they would be taking her away. I wanted to see her before she went in for surgery. As they always say, no surgery is without risk.

Because my mom had bone cancer, they needed to make sure her blood numbers were up. There was also concerns about clotting. But her numbers weren't up and she needed blood and platelets to even go into surgery. And then there was the reason for the surgery, her intestine had burst and toxins were slowly leaking into her system. A system that was already compromised by the cancer. Even without the cancer the toxins entering into her body was enough to kill her. When I ran into her room, I found her still there waiting for more blood. I had gotten to see my mom! When asked by my brother, I had thought it was best to advise him to fly in to be at the hospital at least by the time she was due out of surgery. The only time I left the hospital was to pick him up.

When we arrived from the airport, she was still in surgery. As we waited in the family area with her husband, I watched a very strange episode of Bonanza. Bonanza had been a favorite of my grandfather's, my mom's dad. He had passed of lung cancer when I was still in high school. I still miss him. It seemed like forever waiting for the community phone to ring in the waiting area. But when they asked for us, we were pleased to know that she had made it out of the surgery successfully. Praise God! It was nice to be able to tell the pastor of her church and the visiting committee the good news when they arrived to lift us up in prayer.

If only the surgery would have been the worst part of this hospital stay. Little did we know it was after the surgery where all of our prayers would be focused. My mother's sleep apnea made it almost impossible for the doctors to agree as to when to take her off the breathing machine she had been placed on for the surgery. Was my mom going to die by respirator failure after coming this far battling cancer and a busted intestine? She was getting weaker and weaker as they refused to take her off the respirator. Finally she came to enough for us to explain what she needed to do to get off the breathing machine. She had to tell them it was her decision to come off the respirator. So per her decision, they did. It wasn't until much later, that we learned that my mother never even remembered coming out of surgery.

She was a week in intensive care and a week in rehab with no real memories. She vaguely remembered seeing flowers and asked if my brother really had come there. She had been consciously unconscious. She never even remembered the many guests that had come to visit her in the week that she was in intensive care at the hospital. So for her to ask to be off the respirator was indeed a miracle. When we told her what she did probably saved her life, she said, "So what did I say again?"

To Be Continued...

The flowers from her siblings- once she was out of intensive care.



The flowers I painted the day my mom got off the respirator!



#11 Freedom Fest

I had arrived in Tennessee in September so the first holiday was Thanksgiving, definitely a family time. My first Thanksgiving without my children wasn't as bad as I thought it would be, since I had decided to be at my mother's house.  The house in Tennessee was tore up from the floor up, literally. A father and son team had been working on tearing up the carpet and laying new hardwood floors. The possibility of them working in the house alone was not even an option, per the family.

As mentioned in a previous post, I was terribly lonely. This was the first time in 25 years, (aka a quarter of a century), that I was living by myself. Three months by myself had not kicked over into a "Freedom Fest" yet. To this day, relatives still laugh about me hopping in the car to attend a same day fish fry. I had driven 4 hours to eat fish at my family's house, when all I really wanted was an excuse to see people, mainly family. It was not a good combination of the house being in a mess and me not adjusting well to my new environment. I didn't know how to slow down or how to enjoy my new "as one" status. Before moving I needed to know what day of the week it was to know what activity I was to attend:

Monday - TAM leadership meeting (Theatrical Arts Ministry)
Tuesday - Possibly free or Video Training
Wednesday - Bible Study
Thursday - G12 (small personal church group meetings) - till it changed days to Friday
Friday - TAM meeting
Saturday - Video Shoots or TAM rehearsals
Sunday - AM & PM  church services which included working Video Ministry (live Internet streaming)

Now, all of those meetings and activities were gone. I remember once seeing an insurance story that spoke of the most stressful times in our lives. It went something like this: #1 Divorce/Breakup #2 Bereavement #3 Moving #4 Losing Job #5 Wedding Planning #6 Work #7 Kids/Family #8 Debt #9 Commuting #10 Pregnancy. Of course it's up to debate as to what should be on the list and at what number. But all I knew was that I could check off at least five to six of those items. And, unfortunately, an aunt whom I had visited while relocating to Tennessee passed that same year. She was the aunt that I had been named after, Aunt Jane. She was a lovely lady both inside as well as out.

It was December 2010, and I had driven to relatives to celebrate my first Christmas of the move. My mother had insisted that it was too bad of road conditions to drive her way, so I went to Kentucky instead. I ended up staying a whole week in December which had also included Christmas. But, days after Christmas I opted to go back to Tennessee to continue the house renovation. The father & son team had finished up literally a day before New Years Eve. This had given me the day before and the day of New Year's Eve to pull it back together again. Once I had gotten the furniture moved back into place, it actually looked like a real home, sweet, home. It was New Year's Eve, and what a joy it was to be able to have taken a nice warm shower in the newly painted and floored house. That night, I watched Dick Clark's New Year's Rockin' Eve and ran around the house naked, singing and dancing! It was something that I had never been able to do while my children lived with me.

Yes, I had finally realized the beauty of living by myself, I could run around the house naked and screaming if I wanted to! Wow! So I did finally put clothes on that night and called my children 3 hours before their New Years in CA. And I was happy, and they were happy because I was happy! I had finally made some progress and that was a good thing. There I was, I had managed to bring in 2011 with a smile! It was indeed a Happy New Year.  

To Be Continued...





Back Together Again! My Grandmother's Home



Martha Jane Holland Maxwell
6/10/1932 - 12/17/2010 

    

#10 Hit Hard

My driving was almost over. I went to Virginia to visit my mother and her husband. Imagine my surprise when I shared with my mother my mutant spider story (see #9) and she said, "Oh those are jumping spiders." Jump, I thought to myself, those ugly things jump? I'm so glad I didn't know that when I was trying to kill it, I would have been even more mortified. She also shared how they jumped at you and come out at night. So there I was with a new reason to sleep with the lights on. I had a lovely visit with my mother and even got to see my brother and his family who had come down from Pennsylvania. But soon it was time to go back and face the mutant jumping spiders.

After having 1 more face to face encounter with this beast of an insect, the exterminator was called upon to rid me of the frightfest.  After the contract guy  crawled under the house I was informed that the crawlspace was infested with camel crickets, aka cave crickets, spickets, spider crickets...the list goes on. I assumed the picture that he showed me on his cell phone was from the internet so that I could see what he was talking about. However, I almost fainted when he told me it was an actual picture he had taken while under the house. These things ate other bugs, each other, and even their own legs for food during desperate times. They also liked carpet, clothes, curtains, and furniture too. They left droppings as waste, had very bad eye sight, and jumped at their predators with their ugliness to ward them off. None of the pictures do any justice as to how ugly these things are in person.  My saving factor was they were pretty happy with the dark, cool, crawl space. Plus, there was also plenty of food down there with the population boom. Needless to say the exterminators got a contract that day and the spraying began soon afterwards. To this day, I am a personal friend of the man who rid me of these awful creatures and allowed me to stay in the home and sleep with the lights out.

While there for the first month, family came to visit to help make the house a little more livable. After the family had come down to clear the garage of old stuff, it was then that reality set in. The time had stood still long enough for me to realize that I was officially by myself. All boxes had been cleared and things put away before I realized that (real) crickets and the sound of my beating heart and breathing was all I ever heard. I was in a new environment without my children and the closest family member was 3 hours away. Empty Nest Syndrome had hit me hard, for I was willing to drive 3 to 4 hours just to be around family again. It was overwhelming for me. I wasn't employed yet and I had too much time on my hands, the loneliness was more than I could bear. The only human contact I had was when I was on the phone. I felt like Tom Hanks at times in the movie Cast Away. Except  my Wilson ball was a Barbie doll and even though she was my co-pilot (see #3) I really didn't talk to her.

Since the Trail of Tears situation (see #7 & #8), I found myself thinking about all my past failed relationships. That became the cream on top of the Empty Nest Syndrome. The perimenopausal was the cherry on top. I'll admit it now but back then I wanted no one to know that my definition of a good day was when I opened my eyes and didn't start my day by crying. There were two more factors at work against me, the 3 hour time difference and sleep apnea. Eventually, a saving factor became doing slight renovations on the house. I started painting it on the inside. Not only did I paint the living room and 3 bedrooms, but I was also joined by workers tearing out the 30 year old carpet and installing hardwood floors - people, real people! They were extremely slow workers, 2 of them, who worked sporadically from Thanksgiving lasting almost to New Years Eve. It's the only time I didn't care about the speed of a job. But I was slightly concerned about putting the house back together again, since everything had to be moved out of every room to lay the floors.

To Be Continued...




A camel cricket the actual size I faced.



Everything shoved together waiting to be put back again.







#9 Attack of the Mutant Spider



There I was finally in the state of Tennessee after leaving California 2 weeks prior. Yes, I had taken my time, but my car had needed much TLC after being driven the 2000+ miles cross country. During my journey I had seen god-parents, aunts, uncles, cousins, my grandmother, and an old high school boyfriend. I had high tailed it through states avoiding road kill and a tornado. But there I was only 3 hours away from my grandmother's home in Tennessee.

It was September 2010 and the weather was still very nice. I was about to arrive at my grandmother's house which was uninhabited at that time. She had been recovering from an injury and had done an extended stay with family members. Earlier that year her 2nd husband had passed, it had been a rough time for the family. When I had inquired about staying at the Tennessee house, everyone seemed pleased with my decision to move closer to my mother who was battling cancer. My move had put me a 4 hours drive away from my mother, who was a 5 hour plane ride previously.

As I pulled up into the driveway I realized that I was going to have a difficult time seeing which keys went where, for it was dark, country dark. Country dark is different from regular dark. You can't see jack! I also heard something I had almost forgotten about, the sound of crickets. But crickets weren't the only thing waiting to greet me in my new country environment. As I settled into the house, I decided to just take the bare minimum in to prepare for bed and a good night's rest. The house had been sealed up since my grandmother had fallen and hurt herself so it was humid and stuffy to say the least. It was the perfect breeding ground for unwelcomed visitors, spiders.

By the time it was 2 or 3am, I was finally ready to take a bath and go to bed. I just want to recap that I was alone for the first time in 25 years. But there I was not only alone, but in country dark in a house by myself. As I went into the bathroom to start my shower water, I saw a long leg reach from the inside of the tub and flop over the edge. I stood there in awe as a second long leg followed, still no body to be seen. My heart raced and I picked up a shoe knowing that I would probably have one shot to kill this huge spider. I held my breath and waited for the arrival of more of the body. It was all in slow motion as I screamed and kept my eyes focused on the ugliest, largest, spider I had ever seen. There was no way, short of fainting, that I could have missed it for it was humongous. I hit it over and over again fearing that it would only be maimed and come back from unconsciousness angered with me.

Was this a heads up about country living, spiders big enough to cover your whole shoe bottom? Even dead and squashed, the sight of this creature scared the bejeebers out of me. I had never seen anything so big and ugly before in person. Sure on the nature shows I had seen upclose pictures of various spiders, but never anything like this inside a home. I checked the tub carefully hoping not to see any spider relatives. And after a long hot shower, my nerves finally calmed down enough to go to bed. I slept that night with the lights on and one eye open. All I needed was one good night's sleep, because the next day I was on the road again to Virginia to see my mother.   

To Be Continued...




The Front Yard



The Back Yard






#8 Trail of Tears

What was originally meant to be an overnight trip had turned into ten days. As mentioned earlier, my angels were being worked overtime, and somehow I had made it 2,000 miles to my family's home. When my uncle looked underneath the hood of my van, he found that a belt had snapped and pieces were all over the engine. He immediately made arrangements with someone to fix it. Not only did the mechanic fix the belt, but he also repaired the hood that was literally taped and wired on. Once he had finished washing the grime off of it, the van looked practically new. As a welcoming present from my family, 2 aunt's and an uncle, the repairs were paid for. I was truly grateful. And now, it was finally time to complete the last leg of my journey. Unfortunately, it was also finally time to say goodbye to Mr. Sweet 16.


Over the course of that ten days, we had met a couple more times. It had turned out that he was a  Scout leader and that his pack had planted greenery and had restored beauty to various parks around the area. When we went to those parks he pointed out what "his" boys had done, as he beamed with pride like a proud papa would have. Then, for what we considered as our final goodbye, we met at a park fittingly called Trail of Tears. He had told me the history of the park, how it was one of the stops of the Native Americans  when they had been led by foot from their lands and how many had died along the way. And then for the rest of the time, we sat there in total silence and watched the wind blow through the trees. It was as if nature was performing a beautiful ballet, trees dancing to the tune of the wind. The leaves swirled and framed a funnel cloud making it more visual as it twirled down to the ground.  No words passed between us. We respected the moment as though we knew we may not see each other again. I tried desperately to burn every moment into long term memory for recalling at a later date. And then he turned and looked into my eyes, but all he saw was sadness. The trail of tears that day had become mine.

They were mine as I had recalled how I had arrived at this point. Back in the 80's, in an effort to cut the distance between us, this man had joined the military to try and be stationed in California, which is where I was located for college. He succeeded and before he was deployed overseas he had come to visit me one last time in 1981 to try and mend things between us. However, my heart was hardened. The hurt was still too fresh from the summer he had never showed and had stopped writing. In 1981, I was determined not to get hurt again, what a joke. He left that year to go overseas, where he would eventually meet his wife to be. Whatever heartache I had caused him in the past, was now mine to bear. I wouldn't have wished it upon my worst enemy. "And this too shall pass", that's what I told myself to get by.

The time had come for me to continue my journey to Tennessee, but I had one more stop to make. I only had to drive one hour to Nashville to see my father's brother and his wife. And as an added bonus my other uncle from California was visiting them. What a treat! I got a little bit of California after almost completing my 2,000+ mile trip. I had not seen my Nashville relatives since my father's funeral back in 2002. I had looked forward to seeing them again. My pit stop was the city of the Grand Ole Opry and home to my parent's college, Tennessee State. When I drove into the driveway, happiness and excitement had become welcomed long forgotten friends!

To Be Continued...

The grave sites and statues of Chiefs White Path and Fly Smith.
The Trail of Tears
from
http://www.hoptownrec.com/

Yea! The Van! Good as New :o)
by JaMax

  

#7 Purging

It was day 5 of my journey and the only reason I wasn't overwhelmed with thoughts of leaving my old life was because of the road trip and the adventure of it all. There I was out on the open highway trying to out drive a tornado warning as I drove through Kansas. That was a 12 hour driving day, one of my longest. I had managed to get through Kansas and then stopped in Missouri. When I finally settled down, I realized I was a day's drive away from the possibility of seeing Mr. Sweet 16. (See #2 & #5) He had asked, since I was driving through his state, if maybe I could swing by for a hi after what, 30 years. I feared I had made a big mistake contacting him because I realized I still cared. But I also knew in my heart that this was more of the beginning of an end, that would wrap up an old chapter in my life. Indeed, this was the start of the purging of old loves and infatuations.

The next morning, I got up ready to continue on my way through St. Louis. Because I had never been there, I had decided to take the time out to be a tourist. So, I did the only stop of the trip that was one solely based on fun, I stopped to see the Arch. This was the first time that I had felt a little alone. Normally I would have been sharing this moment with someone, my children, my ex, a relative, someone. But there I was alone walking and taking pictures of the Arch without another to share my thoughts with. I did however, managed to enjoy my little tourist moment for the most part, and then got back into the car heading closer to my destination with fate.

It was a sad thing hoping for a little help, hoping that Mr. Sweet 16 was fat and balding. But then I realized I wasn't that shallow and that it really didn't matter because of the circumstances. It was a bittersweet time, I was happy to see him and unhappy that nothing could every be like it was. I was at my relatives home at this point and was only 4 hours away from my final destination. The first meeting with "Mr." was short and sweet. He came by and picked me up in his truck. Then we drove around as we listened to "Our Song" and caught up even more with where the last 30 years had taken us. Two days before I had been 7 years old,  now here I was 16 again. As we kissed goodbye, (a socially acceptable one), he asked if I would be available to meet one more time before I left. I, of course, agreed to it.

When we met the next time, he took me to his favorite park where he went to run, walk, and to sit and think. It was there that he showed me his Senior year book and asked me to sign the space he had left for me to sign. The page was called, Someone Special.  I asked if I could take the book with me to sign and he agreed. I had wanted to take my time and really meditate on what I was going to say. He too had kept every card and letter that I had mailed and I had brought my 25 letters for him to see again. There we were sitting and reading what we had said back in the day, when we were yet still, young and innocent.

Later that night I went to bed and thought very carefully about what I would say in his memory year book. It went a little something like this: "You will always have a very special place in my heart." There was more but I truly can't remember what. And of course it was done in a politically correct way. For this was real life and not a movie, song, or romance novel. That night I fell asleep listening to "Our Song", and yes, I cried. Tomorrow I would be giving back the book signed and it would start the beginning of the end of an era.

To Be Continued...



Looking Back, Moving Forward by JaMax
The Kansas sunset in my side rear-view mirror.

The St. Louis Arch
by JaMax

   

#6 Time Travel

It's an amazing thing to be 48 years old and then suddenly you're 7. But that's what was about to happen as I pulled up to my god-father's house in Denver. As I got out of the van he said to me,"You're 7 years old, what are you doing driving?" Then he told me how he had heard my van coming down the street way before I had even appeared. It truly was a miracle that the van had made it that far at all. Before leaving California, it had set in my driveway for about 6 months. It turned out that the same day that I had secured a new position, my car broke down and never ran again until I made the decision to move to Tennessee. It was then that finances were made available to fix it. For the record, I don't believe in coincidences.

As I walked closer for the teddybear hug from my god-father, I was transformed into that young girl of 7 that he had called out. All of the responsibilities of being an adult just melted away. He, his wife, and I all went out to dinner that night and stayed up late talking. What was suppose to be an overnight stay, eventually turned out to be a two night retreat. During that short stay I got a special treat, I got to sit in the overstuffed Lazyboy and go through album after album of my god-father's photos that he had taken during he and my parents' college years. I absolutely loved looking upon what was probably the happiest years of my parents' time together. Later on down the road, when I was in the 5th grade, my parents divorced. Fortunately, being the oldest of two children I still have very fond memories of those times before the divorce. And then my god-father handed me albums of year after years of me growing up that even included my own college time, up to the younger years of my two children.

As the second day kicked in, I realized it was time to cast my eyes forward and to transform back again to the age of 48. It had been a wonderful two days and a great comfort after the reminder of the heartache of a lost past love. (See #5 Mr. Sweet 16) Once again I found myself in a position of not wanting to leave but my path was in front of me, still filled with new adventures. Part of the two day stay had also involved the researching of the noise that my god-father had heard upon me pulling up two days prior. If only I could have had a video camera to shoot footage of he and his wife, whom I call my aunt, underneath the hood of the van. Before I left they had insisted on filling up the tank, checking the oil, and taping the hood back on. Prior in California, I had been in an auto accident the previous year and I had never gotten the body work repairs done. So, my hood needed taping.

As I pulled away, my heart ached still again as I slowly turned back to 48 and longed for just one more bear hug. Oh to be 7 again! But I was on the road once more, and my next stop was Missouri. Little did I know how hard my angels were working to get me cross country. I would find out later that there really was something going on underneath that taped hood.

To Be Continued...




Salt Lake City to Denver
Photo by JaMax

 


My parents in college
Photo by C. Glenn

   

#5 Mr. Sweet 16

I want to go back to Day 2 of the drive. If it wasn't bad enough that I was weeping while listening to "Our Song" I happen to leave out that I was also getting phone calls and text messages from "Mr. Sweet 16" (see #2 The Two Week Pack) checking on how I was doing. He was concerned, as all my family was, about my safety driving cross country alone. He was genuinely a nice guy. A, he's married with two children and I'm celibate, nice guy. That's what I continued to tell myself to keep me from mentally falling off the wagon. The sad truth about falling off the celibacy wagon is, whenever in the past I had, the sex was never as sweet as I had imagined it. And of course, it was never, ever worth it. But back to the matter at  hand. There I was getting these text messages:

16: Just got home. I'm looking at a picture of you.

Me: 2+ sizes ago don't do it

16: Too late I'm looking at a beautiful smile and a face that radiates the essence of what beauty was meant to be. 

Me: How did I let you go?

16: Don't know some think the grass is greener on the other side. I think if you water & nourish what you have and what makes you happy you will be the envy of the other side. But I guess that's why we have choices. 

Just think about it, our society is always thinking the grass is greener on the other side. But back when we were in high school, how could I not think that there weren't other experiences out there waiting for me. But you're probably wondering, what really went wrong back in the day between us?  Long story short, he left me waiting for him. Waiting to come and see me, when I had come into his town for what was to be, a short visit. We had met when I was 16 while on a previous summer's vacation. After that, over the next two years we had communicated by mail and phone calls. But this particular visit I never got to see him. Long story short, my heart broke the day he never showed up. I was never the same. The young, giddy, love-sick girl was gone, never to be seen again. I vowed I'd never let anyone hurt me like that again. In fact, the almost regular letters that had spanned over the previous two years had suddenly stopped too. Until one day, months later, a letter came explaining what had happened the day he never showed up:

When you called me I knew there was no way for me to see you but I wanted to so badly that I lied to you. So I thought that I could escape a little bit of pain by not writing you anymore. Instead of escaping pain I only felt more. Please forgive me, I made you feel some pain too & I'm very sorry. I love you from the bottom of my heart & I want you to love me that way too. And I know some day (hopefully soon) we can be together. I only hope I didn't wait too late to tell you this. Love Always...

Well, I forgave him and we continued to write but I was never the same. Little did I know that love could be found at such a young age. By the time we had finished writing each other over the years, our letters had spanned a period of time from Aug.1979 - Oct. 1981. And as the years passed, I was always looking for that romantic side in others, that I had found in him. He had become the standard to judge all others by. What a shame since he was not the rule but the exception, even now as I read my text messages: 

16: Not to get too sentimental but if it were up to me I would have liked to have been apart of all your life's adventures. I know we would have had a great time :)

Tears ran down my face as I worked through the 2nd half of a bag of peanut M&M's, as fond thoughts of "The Bed" (see #4 In Love Again) kept me from mentally falling off the wagon. Next stop, Denver.

To Be Continued...

Wagon Food see #4 In Love Again

 

#4 In Love Again!

After finally getting some rest in Reno it was off to Salt Lake City. To add to the adventure of it all, I think I should share that I've barely made it into the 20th century let alone the 21st century. My van not only was lacking in air but it was equipped with a cassette player and radio. Remember those small card size plastic things with the brown ribbon? Anyone born in the late 80's might be lost right now. Well fortunately I found a device that allowed me to put something in the cassette player to convert to iPod friendly playing. My other downfall of not being tech savvy was, no GPS. I was traveling across country pulling up AAA on my cell phone that only had Ghettro (aka Metro PCS) service. As I traveled, sometimes it was there, sometimes it was not.

My original plan was to cross Nevada at night so I wouldn't have to deal with the heat and plus I love night driving. Well, hotels don't allow you the luxury of night checkout times, so that plan was foiled. But while driving across the desert in the day, I found it nice to be able to see road kill before driving right up on it. So there I was driving along minding my own business, and then it happened, "Our Song" played on my iPod. Thoughts of a love lost long ago played with my emotions. (See #2 The Two Week Pack) I continued on as I wiped a tear and avoided hitting a dead armadillo in the road.

My original plan was to stay at a Bed & Breakfast to treat myself on this 2000+ mile trip. I had used my AAA site to find a B&B in Salt Lake. I had made several failed attempts to confirm at the B&B. These attempts had failed because I had no signal to verify my arrival (Ghettro). When I was almost there I finally got to call only to find they had given my room away. Earlier, they had not wanted to take my card info over the phone saying it wasn't necessary. Hmm. So there I was in Salt Lake after a long desert haul with no room.

Fortunately, the B&B referred me to a restored hotel in downtown Salt Lake. I loved it. Let me restate it more clearly, I loved the bed. It was the most comfortable bed I had every slept in, in my life!!! I didn't want to leave. I had never felt that way before. Why? Why did I have to go? What would happen if  I never made it that way again! NO, life is not fair! The morning had come and I had to say good bye. But my desire was if I couldn't stay I vowed I would return one day! I was, In Love Again! Yes, I had to tear myself away from - The Bed.  But the way it caressed me throughout the night, oh I would never forget that!

Maybe now is a good time to mention that I'm celibate.  No, not a virgin, remember I'm divorced with two children, just abstaining for now. I'm just trying to stay on the wagon and not fall off, that's all. FYI, with chocolate and this bed I think I could stay on the wagon forever!

To Be Continued...

The Bed
(photo by JaMax)

#3 Barbie Goes to Reno

When earlier I stated that I drove off into the sunset, I meant it literally. As soon as my van was packed I left. It just so happen that it was 5pm. All I needed to do was get to Reno. I had decided since my van's air-conditioning was not really working, to forgo the Texas southern route. I decided to travel the country from California to Kentucky, where I had family, and then down to Tennessee. So, there I was just me and my companion Barbie. I sat a Barbie doll in the front seat and renamed her Co-Pilot Barbie. (Don't go to the stores to find her, it's just my strange sense of humor.)

It turns out that while going through the various stages of a deteriorating marriage, I had become addicted to eBay. I found comfort in collecting Barbies. As a little girl I played with them and one year our family was in a flood and it wiped out my entire Barbie collection. So I went on-line trying to retrieve a little of my lost childhood. At first it wasn't so bad, a good deal here and there and then, the addiction set in. I was buying clothes, shoes, furniture, Byron Lars collections, & even crossed over into Fashion Royalty. If you can't follow at this point don't worry, only the hard core Barbie Collectors know what I'm talking about. Oddly enough, I quit cold turkey when my Ex and I separated and I didn't buy again for years.

Ok, so there we were, Co-Pilot Barbie and I winding our way to Reno. Please note that I have never driven to Reno by myself and I really didn't remember how the drive went when I did ride with someone else. Lord knows, if I had paid attention,  I would have driven in the day instead of taking off at dusk . The road from Northern California to Reno is steep and mountainous, and then there was road work! To me saying road work was equivalent to cussing. I hate road work and there I was in the mountains with headlights in my eyes, drops on the right side and what should have been a couple of hours, turned into I think 4 hours with slower speeds and one lane traffic each way.

But we finally made it. I was soooo happy to hit the bed that night. My first day was out of the way, day two's destination, Salt Lake City.  

To Be Continued...

Co-Pilot Barbie
(Photo by JaMax)

#2 - The Two Week Pack

So, let me go back to my two week pack so things will make sense from this point on. (Note - if you haven't read 2010 It  Begins! you may want to read it before this one.) As I had mentioned earlier, I'm a pack rat. While going through my papers, I found love letters about 25 of them, from the same person from when I was 16. You may be asking, did I stop cleaning and packing to read them? Oh yes, you bet I re-read them. Wouldn't you? Needless to say I re-lived a first love and what do you think happened? Yes, now with me reading them I looked at my life in hindsight, what, 30 years later. I also re-fell in love.

Had I found these letters, pre no privacy internet age, I would have just continued on with packing. But no!!! We live in the age where you can find someone's shoe size if you really wanted to. For the record, I don't want to know anyone's shoe size. But I digress, back to the teenage love, I Googled him. As if fate wanted a reunion, I found a possible email address and what looked to be his home phone number. All this without paying for extra info. I wrote it down and that's when the burning in my pocket began. I was 30 years older and 3 sizes larger. What in the world was I even thinking about. Was he even still alive? The chances were good since I found a number. What if he was married with children? I'm so silly what was I thinking that I would call and we would pick up where we left off? That he would still care? How silly of me. But maybe I couldn't think straight because by this time I had been packing for almost a week and a half, night and day. Plus I was really thinking I'm perimenopausal, a term I recently had learned meaning pre pre menopausal.

Well, I started with a "is this you?" email. There was a special song that we shared and to test if this was the real person I asked for the name of the song as a test. Clever I thought. As the burning sensation continued in my pocket, I continued with the tasks and errands that would advance my departure, so I continued on with my to do list. I'll never forget, I was sitting in Sam's Club getting tires when the burning sensation increased. I was eating the combo hotdog and drink when I couldn't take it any more, I called. What had I done? My heart was beating faster, my pulse racing, these are not creative statements. I could feel my heart beating at a different rate, plus I'm older and over weight, like I said not creative statements to build the moment. He answered. I knew it was him without hearing his voice for over 30 years. When he knew it was me he laughed and said the name of "Our Song".

During the coarse of what I think was a 12 minute conversation I learned that he had married and had two children, a daughter and son almost the exact same ages as my children. Yes, life had continued on. But some things don't change, the fond memories of a first love. It was the first of many conversations to catch up and to stroll down memory lane. I had faced a fear and now I realized I was on my way to live in a city that was 4 hours away from where he lived. I thought to myself, who knows, maybe one day we'll meet again.

To Be Continued...

Old Love Letters
(Photo by JaMax)