My mother was one of 4 sisters. Aunt "Kiki" was the youngest, also the beauty and the rebel. -- Kiki is actually a baby name I gave to a certain female body part (I won't say which one) as a small child. This particular aunt had quite a reputation. She was stunning in her blonde beehive hairdo.
I saw her for the last time when I was 12. However, we remained close thru letters and phone calls. Kiki spilled many family secrets my parents would rather I never learned.
She corresponded with my mother & me separately, though we lived in the same house. I was instructed to "tear up" after reading in case it was fished out of the garbage can. -- But I always did that anyway.
Kiki once described my mother as "the devil" when they were going up. She often stated how sad she felt for me. She understood my anxiety attacks. My mother did not drive for the same reason.
After Mom's death, as I was sorting thru her belongings, I discovered 2 letters in a bottom drawer. Both were from Aunt Kiki, dated several years apart. Naturally, I read them. I was aghast to discover negative and hurtful things written about me.
I realized why my mother had saved them. Her evil hand was reaching out from the grave to get in one last dig at me. Angrily, I ripped the papers to pieces!
My father had warned me that Kiki was 2-faced with false values. He considered her a bad influence. At one point, he told me to stop corresponding with her. I was an adult and ignored his advice. Now I felt like a fool.
During a lunch with my friend, Pat, I told her of my discovery.
"What you should have done," Pat told me, "was go to a Thrift Store, buy some cheap, tacky looking knick-knacks, put them in a box along with the letters, then mail it to your Aunt. Include a note saying your mother wanted her to have these."
Too bad I had torn up those letters. I liked that idea! I'm surprised I didn't think of it.
At the time, Kiki was around the same age as I am, now. Twenty years before, she left a successful husband who adored her for an abusive liar who promised her a new Cadillac every year. After he died, instead of embracing her freedom, she took up with another invective creep out of fear of being alone.
I forgave her. My anger was not as deep as my pity.
Aunt Kiki had become a victim of her own bad judgement and misbehavior.
Friday, May 24, 2013
Friday, May 17, 2013
STICKING IT TO THE PAST
Decades ago, I watched SLAUGHTERHOUSE-FIVE the movie, based on the novel by Kurt Vonnegut. The premise concerned an older man who (with the help of space aliens) was uprooted in time. Without warning, he would suddenly find himself fully reliving a different period in his life. Now that I am older, I strongly relate.
Whenever I think back to my 20's, or my childhood, it doesn't feel that long ago. The memories are so graphic, it could have been last week, or even a day ago! Yet, it was a different world, then. However, I always boomerang back, rather than get mired there.
My childhood in the 1950's was glorious! Sadly, it all quickly unraveled and became ugly in 1960 after we moved to the house on the river with its long dock and impressive view.
I never imagined the ordeal would drag on for so long. Had I an inkling, I probably would have thrown myself in the river! -- Unfortunately, I'm a good swimmer.
A few years back, my electricity went out in the wee A.M. hours. I awoke in pitch darkness. For a few seconds I thought I was back in Stuart, in my old room with my step-mother alive in the house. And my life in Vero Beach had all been a waking dream!!! Familiar feelings of misery and hopelessness came rushing back. I wanted to die, rather than return to that!
A soft stream of light came shinning across my bedroom from a neighbor's lamp post. The electricity had returned. A tremendous feeling of relief swept thru me.
According to German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche, you are advised to throw flowers at the monster who tried to consume you but failed. Personally, I'd rather throw dynamite!
Today, it feels almost as if I'm existing in another dimension compared to what I once knew. The technology that is common now was still in the realm of science fiction for most of my life. I thought we'd have flying cars before personal computers.
I'll admit I'm not into most of this technology, I find it confusing. But I love surfing the net, email, and writing on a screen rather than paper.
I can remember when a VCR was cutting edge technology!
Back in my early 30's I briefly became friendly with an attorney's wife; another I-have-money-you-don't type. After telling me her salary, she stated that fixing the family dinner was easy now, thanks to her new microwave oven.
From her tone, I knew she was just waiting for me to exclaim, "Oh you have a microwave oven!" and swoon. -- Actually we had one, too! Within 10 years almost everyone owned one!
Nowadays, I'm more behind the times. I don't own an Ipad (whatever that is!) or text. My car was manufactured in the last century and all my phones still have cords attached. I can't afford HBO or HD TV, as well as many other conveniences others take for granted.
However, I do have a P.C., cable TV, a DVR, lots of reading material, plus a fully stocked refrigerator and pantry. And I look darn magnificent for 62! To me, this is an abundance of wealth! Also there's no one around to get in my face and annoy me! All of this more than exceeds my wildest childhood fantasies! Men have their man-cave, my home is my woman's-lair.
My bliss is defined not by what I lack, but what I have. -- Of course it would be wonderful to have newer and more expensive things. But I doubt I would be any happier... On second thought, if I had a flying car life would feel perfect!
Whenever I think back to my 20's, or my childhood, it doesn't feel that long ago. The memories are so graphic, it could have been last week, or even a day ago! Yet, it was a different world, then. However, I always boomerang back, rather than get mired there.
My childhood in the 1950's was glorious! Sadly, it all quickly unraveled and became ugly in 1960 after we moved to the house on the river with its long dock and impressive view.
I never imagined the ordeal would drag on for so long. Had I an inkling, I probably would have thrown myself in the river! -- Unfortunately, I'm a good swimmer.
A few years back, my electricity went out in the wee A.M. hours. I awoke in pitch darkness. For a few seconds I thought I was back in Stuart, in my old room with my step-mother alive in the house. And my life in Vero Beach had all been a waking dream!!! Familiar feelings of misery and hopelessness came rushing back. I wanted to die, rather than return to that!
A soft stream of light came shinning across my bedroom from a neighbor's lamp post. The electricity had returned. A tremendous feeling of relief swept thru me.
According to German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche, you are advised to throw flowers at the monster who tried to consume you but failed. Personally, I'd rather throw dynamite!
Today, it feels almost as if I'm existing in another dimension compared to what I once knew. The technology that is common now was still in the realm of science fiction for most of my life. I thought we'd have flying cars before personal computers.
I'll admit I'm not into most of this technology, I find it confusing. But I love surfing the net, email, and writing on a screen rather than paper.
I can remember when a VCR was cutting edge technology!
Back in my early 30's I briefly became friendly with an attorney's wife; another I-have-money-you-don't type. After telling me her salary, she stated that fixing the family dinner was easy now, thanks to her new microwave oven.
From her tone, I knew she was just waiting for me to exclaim, "Oh you have a microwave oven!" and swoon. -- Actually we had one, too! Within 10 years almost everyone owned one!
Nowadays, I'm more behind the times. I don't own an Ipad (whatever that is!) or text. My car was manufactured in the last century and all my phones still have cords attached. I can't afford HBO or HD TV, as well as many other conveniences others take for granted.
However, I do have a P.C., cable TV, a DVR, lots of reading material, plus a fully stocked refrigerator and pantry. And I look darn magnificent for 62! To me, this is an abundance of wealth! Also there's no one around to get in my face and annoy me! All of this more than exceeds my wildest childhood fantasies! Men have their man-cave, my home is my woman's-lair.
My bliss is defined not by what I lack, but what I have. -- Of course it would be wonderful to have newer and more expensive things. But I doubt I would be any happier... On second thought, if I had a flying car life would feel perfect!
Friday, May 10, 2013
MOMMIE DEADEST
WARNING! THIS POSTING MAY BE OFFENSIVE TO SOME. -- WELL TOO BAD!
I don't know which is lower in my opinion; a woman who would deliberately get pregnant to trap a man into marriage, or one who would try to steal a married man. My mother was the first category of woman, my step-mother the second. Both were sweet as cherry pie around other people, but bitches from hell in private.
I've always felt I would have been a happier, better adjusted person had I never known my mother. When she passed from this life, the thought I was never going to see her again seemed too good to be true. Although, I knew her replacement was waiting in the wings.
At the end, cancer had ravaged my mother to the point where she required professional care in a Home. She was not expected to last out the week. She lingered there for a month.
Mom was placed in a ward with 4 other women. She enjoyed the smell of their cologne and asked me for a bottle.
I gave her a nearly full one a friend had given me for Christmas. She refused to wear it. It smelled so cheap, it embarrassed her, she said.
Angered by that remark, I refused to visit for several days. She complained bitterly to my father.
"She's threatening to disinherit you! You'd better come with me tomorrow," he advised. "Your mother's on her deathbed, remember."
The second I entered the room she seemed infused with a sudden burst of vitality. "Every one's constantly inquiring of your whereabouts. It shames me!" she ranted. If you don't show up here again, it'll go down hard on you!"
"Alright then, disinherit me!" I hollered. "I won't show up at your funeral! Think how embarrassing that will be! Tongues will really be chattering!"
The other patients jumped in their wheelchairs and headed for the halls as we argued loudly back and forth. I had been an embarrassment to my mother my entire life, why should now be any different.
Many advised me to make peace with her before she died. Otherwise, my mother was liable to haunt me. I told them any peace between us was impossible.
Throughout the month, the phone rang several times informing us her end was at hand. -- They were false alarms! On our final visit, I was so exasperated, I exclaimed, "If she doesn't die today, I'm going to suffocate her with a pillow!"
My father was furious! A nurse's aide glowered as if she wanted to punch me! I was summoned to a supervisor's office for a lecture. I was barely seated before a nurse buzzed. Mother had passed. -- I probably have a permanent spot in the halls of infamy at that place!
Throughout the funeral, her church-lady friends shook while loudly sobbing and wailing. "Your mother was dearly loved, " my cousin whispered to me.
"They're probably just scared they're going to be next," I whispered back.
My mother's spook has come a'haunting on several occasions. I've seen objects defy gravity. I've been shoved and hit when there was no one else in the house. This has escalated since I stated my Blog. -- But I refuse to be intimidated by the dead! I intend to rip away that veil of hypocrisy and shred it with my teeth if necessary!
I'm sure some readers will label me crazy as my brother, the diagnosed paranoid schizophrenic. However, I'm too old to care what someone else may think of me.
Whenever Mom drops in, I tell her exactly how I feel about her. Nothing is held back! Upon her last visit, I reminded that I was getting up in years. Before long, she'll find me on the other side. My mother has been warned to stay away and cease causing trouble. Otherwise, I'll give her payback that will have her screaming for reincarnation!
I feel, however, that I am living the meanest revenge, by just being happy.
I don't know which is lower in my opinion; a woman who would deliberately get pregnant to trap a man into marriage, or one who would try to steal a married man. My mother was the first category of woman, my step-mother the second. Both were sweet as cherry pie around other people, but bitches from hell in private.
I've always felt I would have been a happier, better adjusted person had I never known my mother. When she passed from this life, the thought I was never going to see her again seemed too good to be true. Although, I knew her replacement was waiting in the wings.
At the end, cancer had ravaged my mother to the point where she required professional care in a Home. She was not expected to last out the week. She lingered there for a month.
Mom was placed in a ward with 4 other women. She enjoyed the smell of their cologne and asked me for a bottle.
I gave her a nearly full one a friend had given me for Christmas. She refused to wear it. It smelled so cheap, it embarrassed her, she said.
Angered by that remark, I refused to visit for several days. She complained bitterly to my father.
"She's threatening to disinherit you! You'd better come with me tomorrow," he advised. "Your mother's on her deathbed, remember."
The second I entered the room she seemed infused with a sudden burst of vitality. "Every one's constantly inquiring of your whereabouts. It shames me!" she ranted. If you don't show up here again, it'll go down hard on you!"
"Alright then, disinherit me!" I hollered. "I won't show up at your funeral! Think how embarrassing that will be! Tongues will really be chattering!"
The other patients jumped in their wheelchairs and headed for the halls as we argued loudly back and forth. I had been an embarrassment to my mother my entire life, why should now be any different.
Many advised me to make peace with her before she died. Otherwise, my mother was liable to haunt me. I told them any peace between us was impossible.
Throughout the month, the phone rang several times informing us her end was at hand. -- They were false alarms! On our final visit, I was so exasperated, I exclaimed, "If she doesn't die today, I'm going to suffocate her with a pillow!"
My father was furious! A nurse's aide glowered as if she wanted to punch me! I was summoned to a supervisor's office for a lecture. I was barely seated before a nurse buzzed. Mother had passed. -- I probably have a permanent spot in the halls of infamy at that place!
Throughout the funeral, her church-lady friends shook while loudly sobbing and wailing. "Your mother was dearly loved, " my cousin whispered to me.
"They're probably just scared they're going to be next," I whispered back.
My mother's spook has come a'haunting on several occasions. I've seen objects defy gravity. I've been shoved and hit when there was no one else in the house. This has escalated since I stated my Blog. -- But I refuse to be intimidated by the dead! I intend to rip away that veil of hypocrisy and shred it with my teeth if necessary!
I'm sure some readers will label me crazy as my brother, the diagnosed paranoid schizophrenic. However, I'm too old to care what someone else may think of me.
Whenever Mom drops in, I tell her exactly how I feel about her. Nothing is held back! Upon her last visit, I reminded that I was getting up in years. Before long, she'll find me on the other side. My mother has been warned to stay away and cease causing trouble. Otherwise, I'll give her payback that will have her screaming for reincarnation!
I feel, however, that I am living the meanest revenge, by just being happy.
Saturday, May 4, 2013
UNITARIANS VS JEHOVAH'S WITNESSES
A year after my father's passing, I was still depressed and grieving. I couldn't seem to climb out of the big, dark sink hole in which I was imprisoned. Caring for him had been a harrowing 24/7 job. I told my friend Margaret I'd like to join a social club, just to get me out of the house. Also I wanted to make new friends, since she and my other close friend, Pat now lived in other cities.
Margaret suggested I join a church. I reminded her that I did not believe in organized religion. So, it would be rather shallow and hypocritical to use one just for social purposes. She assured me that many people did just that. Besides, some religion might rub off on me.
Geez, I'm hardly a big time sinner! I was turned off by the idea.
At the time, there was a Unitarian Universalist Church down the street from my subdivision. Margaret mentioned seeing it. -- It was an unknown faith to me!
"Oh, you would like them!" she insisted. "They're very liberal. They combine the best of all religions."
Shortly after, I read in newspaper the church was holding a fashion show/luncheon. It would feature clothes by Pakistani women trying to make a living on their own. I signed up to attend. In fact, I owned a beautiful dress made in Pakistan I planned to wear. The event was to be held on a Saturday afternoon.
That morning just before I awoke, I had the most vivid and horrible nightmare! In it, I was at the church listening to a visiting minister. The man strolled amidst the congregation as he spoke. Every time he walked past, I felt the temperature drop about 10 degrees. Others started noticing and whispering about it. Without warning, the room suddenly went pitch black! Sounds of confusion and gasps were everywhere! One corner suddenly lit up, aglow with a bizarre light! Crouching there was the minister with a demonic expression on his face. "You are all going to burn!" he screeched. Flames shot up all around, screaming and shrieks ensued! -- I woke up.
As I finished dressing, I heard a knock at the door. From my window, I could see an older man and a girl about 14. Since I don't know everyone in my neighborhood, I assumed they were neighbors.
Well, they were Jehovah's Witnesses! The pair were crusading against graphic sex & violence in movies. "I like the graphic sex & violence," I told them. "That's what I pay money to see!"
The kid cracked-up laughing. The man looked flummoxed. "May I ask how old you are, and if you have children?" he inquired.
I assured him I was old enough that my eggs had dried-up in the last century. Then, I informed him I had plans and no time for further conversation.
Attired in my long, pink-floral Pakistani tea dress, I arrived at the church. The event drew a big crowd. There were 2 large double doors on different sides. I was unsure which one was the entrance. I asked a woman.
"Aren't models supposed to use the back entrance," she replied with a hint of disdain as she looked me up and down..
I stated I was a paying guest. I intended to use the front entrance. At that moment, the left-side doors were flung open. I followed everyone inside. Since this was a church, I expected at some point for someone to come over and welcome me! It was utter confusion and I was on my own.
I found an empty table and sat down. Others began sitting around me, introducing themselves. And who should sit next to me but that haughty woman from outside!
"You certainly are pale!" she said to me at one point in the conversation.
I told her my age and asked, "How many lines do you see in my face? I would never be stupid enough to tan this skin! Pale has its perks." -- That shut the homely prune-face up!
After the fashion show, several women approached me, separately. They were disappointed my dress was not part of the show. Not one of the modeled outfits was as beautiful as my floral-pink dress. I probably could have sold it right off my body for about 3 times what I paid. -- Margaret had picked it out for me at ROSS a year before.
I never returned to that church. They were more interested in my dress than having me as a member.
Instead, I began taking myself to the movies in the Mall every weekend. Also I looked thru the newspaper for events open to the public. (I found many!) Plus now I had freedom! I took advantage of being alone. Before long, happiness came not in rivulets, as a tease like before; but in torrents, and then a deluge!
Margaret suggested I join a church. I reminded her that I did not believe in organized religion. So, it would be rather shallow and hypocritical to use one just for social purposes. She assured me that many people did just that. Besides, some religion might rub off on me.
Geez, I'm hardly a big time sinner! I was turned off by the idea.
At the time, there was a Unitarian Universalist Church down the street from my subdivision. Margaret mentioned seeing it. -- It was an unknown faith to me!
"Oh, you would like them!" she insisted. "They're very liberal. They combine the best of all religions."
Shortly after, I read in newspaper the church was holding a fashion show/luncheon. It would feature clothes by Pakistani women trying to make a living on their own. I signed up to attend. In fact, I owned a beautiful dress made in Pakistan I planned to wear. The event was to be held on a Saturday afternoon.
That morning just before I awoke, I had the most vivid and horrible nightmare! In it, I was at the church listening to a visiting minister. The man strolled amidst the congregation as he spoke. Every time he walked past, I felt the temperature drop about 10 degrees. Others started noticing and whispering about it. Without warning, the room suddenly went pitch black! Sounds of confusion and gasps were everywhere! One corner suddenly lit up, aglow with a bizarre light! Crouching there was the minister with a demonic expression on his face. "You are all going to burn!" he screeched. Flames shot up all around, screaming and shrieks ensued! -- I woke up.
As I finished dressing, I heard a knock at the door. From my window, I could see an older man and a girl about 14. Since I don't know everyone in my neighborhood, I assumed they were neighbors.
Well, they were Jehovah's Witnesses! The pair were crusading against graphic sex & violence in movies. "I like the graphic sex & violence," I told them. "That's what I pay money to see!"
The kid cracked-up laughing. The man looked flummoxed. "May I ask how old you are, and if you have children?" he inquired.
I assured him I was old enough that my eggs had dried-up in the last century. Then, I informed him I had plans and no time for further conversation.
Attired in my long, pink-floral Pakistani tea dress, I arrived at the church. The event drew a big crowd. There were 2 large double doors on different sides. I was unsure which one was the entrance. I asked a woman.
"Aren't models supposed to use the back entrance," she replied with a hint of disdain as she looked me up and down..
I stated I was a paying guest. I intended to use the front entrance. At that moment, the left-side doors were flung open. I followed everyone inside. Since this was a church, I expected at some point for someone to come over and welcome me! It was utter confusion and I was on my own.
I found an empty table and sat down. Others began sitting around me, introducing themselves. And who should sit next to me but that haughty woman from outside!
"You certainly are pale!" she said to me at one point in the conversation.
I told her my age and asked, "How many lines do you see in my face? I would never be stupid enough to tan this skin! Pale has its perks." -- That shut the homely prune-face up!
After the fashion show, several women approached me, separately. They were disappointed my dress was not part of the show. Not one of the modeled outfits was as beautiful as my floral-pink dress. I probably could have sold it right off my body for about 3 times what I paid. -- Margaret had picked it out for me at ROSS a year before.
I never returned to that church. They were more interested in my dress than having me as a member.
Instead, I began taking myself to the movies in the Mall every weekend. Also I looked thru the newspaper for events open to the public. (I found many!) Plus now I had freedom! I took advantage of being alone. Before long, happiness came not in rivulets, as a tease like before; but in torrents, and then a deluge!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)