Reflection

Reflection

Sunday, February 19, 2012

Sixth Sense


Flat top of the Maverick from the rolling


I found the photo of my brother's car that he had his accident in when he was a teenager in 1970.  It is a miracle that he is alive.  It was a brand new Ford Maverick, red exterior and black interior.  Quite a snazzy car for a young driver.

My story of this event was my first encounter with a Sixth Sense.  When I hit the age of 13 up until I was 17, I went through a phase of frightening, wake up in the night, dreams on a regular basis.  I dreamt of my Grandmother dying often.  Whether it coincided with my Step-Grandmother telling me that she believed in Reincarnation or that she believed in Channeling and in fact had lived other lives in other times, it certainly laid some mental groundwork in my thoughts.  Once when I was in 4th or 5th grade she visited us and played a tape of her talking about her Channeling experience.  It was creepy and odd to hear her speak this way my having been raised in the Presbyterian Church Sunday School with a strict version of Bible Stories.  We didn't discuss Reincarnation or Channeling or what that was.   I became curious but laid it to rest. 

On the night of the accident I had dreams of my brother being hurt though I couldn't interpret if he had died or not.  It was a troubling sleep where I tried to change my dreams but I kept going back to him.  Somewhere in an awaken moment I heard voices in the house though I knew the hour was late into the night.  I couldn't understand what was being said and fell to sleep hearing their muffled voices.

What happened was that my brother had been in a serious car accident on the Monterey Salinas Highway just at the Laureles Grade.  He had gone out with his girlfriend that night and was returning home to Salinas after he had dropped her off at her home in Pacific Grove when he fell asleep at the wheel.  Amazingly he suffered only minor injuries of a broken rib, scrapes and bruising.  He wasn't wearing a seatbelt and that may have been what saved him.

Falling asleep, in that relaxed state, he slid down and avoided being potential decapitated or certainly seriously injured.  His car rolled and hit a tree in the end.  At the time even though it is a Highway, it was a quiet road at night, mostly just a country road with very few residences.  I don't know how long it was before someone discovered the accident but in the 70's there were no cell phones so someone would have to find a house somewhere to call for help.

In the morning when I came out of my room, I was told that he had been in an accident and in the hospital.  

I was relieved that he was okay but to digest the fact that I had dreamed he had been hurt only to find out that indeed he had been hurt did scare me. How was I to understand that I could have dreamed something and that it happened?  What if more of my dreams became real?  

I like to think that my being a teen helped me to pass through without any residual effect.  I did have good dreams too.  This did have the effect of my interest in spirits, ghosts stories and hauntings outside my church upbringing and what I wanted to believe or question. 






Wednesday, February 15, 2012

Thursday, February 9, 2012

Fixing a hole...

Another continuing saga with our elderly parents....if you haven't read this you may want to so that you understand what I am writing about......previous post.

Today is just one of those days with FBM,  who decided to abscond MBM and dear Love had to intervene along with a local policeman at the Assisted Care Home she lives at...this is the song I thought of because everyday another hole is made by a very confused, agitated, irrational, volatile, paranoid elderly man, ....catching all this?  Seems that no matter what,  the story will have an unhappy ending as he can't understand or accept that his wife will never be where she once was and will always need care that he can't provide because of his frailty.   Worse still is that his Dr. can't do anymore to help as he doesn't think FBM is incompetent enough to need care himself which floors all of us.  He can't write very well anymore, and can't comprehend or understand verbal dialog except when a part of his brain flips to the up side and he more or less ends the discussion of where he thinks his wife, our mom, needs to be. Then there are the endless phone calls that start bright and early in the morning to his kids of wanting to move her home, not move her home, move her to a V.A. Hospital, change Dr.'s as he doesn't trust her Dr., wants his gun back (another story), thinks his son stole the gun and calls the local police on him (he is doing this almost every other day and the police are getting tired of him calling), he sobs, he wails, he yells and yet the Dr. can't help us except to turn this all over to Social Workers and even that is a whole different can of worms.  


It is a lovely sunny day, I just had our daughter and her fiance visiting for a few days and they have just flown back to the East Coast, youngest daughter came to visit as well and middle daughter hung out with all of us too.  Life can be sweet and I am looking at that rather than the dismal saga that dredges on with FBM.  I love the hugs my children, my adult children share with me.  That is comfort medicine of the best kind.  I am glad that they all had the chance to visit with MBM while they were here as I know this brightened her day.  Hold close your love ones, tell them, show them....and in the meantime we will continue to plug the holes that keep erupting in the aging parents.




I'm fixing a hole where the rain gets in
And stops my mind from wandering
Where it will go

I'm filling the cracks that ran through the door
And kept my mind from wandering
Where it will go

And it really doesn't matter if I'm wrong I'm right
Where I belong I'm right
Where I belong.

See the people standing there who disagree and never win
And wonder why they don't get in my door
I'm painting my room in the colourful way

And when my mind is wandering
There I will go
And it really doesn't matter if I'm wrong I'm right
Where I belong I'm right
Where I belong.

Silly people run around they worry me
And never ask me why they don't get past my door
I'm taking the time for a number of things
That weren't important yesterday
And I still go

I'm fixing a hole where the rain gets in
And stops my mind from wandering
Where it will go

Wednesday, February 1, 2012

New blog to share......



I have had friends that have asked of my daughter's and my trip to Italy this past Fall.  So with pleasure I have started a blog of travels for those who want to read about that trip and of other travels with lots of photos.  Here is the debut of it......   Snapshots On My Journey

    Enjoy!

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