#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