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lovingphantompatrol-blog · 7 years ago

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As the days grow longer with the long awaited soft spring breezes. Birds are singing excitedly with the promise of a hot summer sun soon to come. This will be my second year here and my first full year married and living here. From day one I nicknamed the homeland as paradise and now my paradise with special areas for serious contemplation and solidarity. The calming effects of mother nature are breath taking.

Walking the perimeter of our yard inhaling the fresh cut grass and enjoying the new buds getting ready to show their exuberant colors. My mind drifts back to a moment in time when I really didn’t care about time. I’m almost there in my happy place watching my grandfather plant the flowers or trim the bushes. I called his yard the Garden of Eden. I truly believed that the gates to heaven where in that yard somewhere and would spend many hours searching. Under the big pine tree where the wild berries grew and we children ate till our stomachs hurt.

Hiding seek was one of the favorite games to play in the big back yard with it’s many bushes surrounding the perimeter. Back then they where the castle walls that protected the pearly gates and wonderful hiding places for free bases when running from a freeze tag. Every now and then homes for baby rabbits, squirrels or kittens. My grandfather had a sitting area built for grandma when she wanted to relax in the afternoon. We would sit and tell stories until dusk while roasting marshmallows.

Past the neighbors house, past the mean looking dog and through the woods lived grandma’s brother and his wife. Uncle Ruben and Aunt Hattie where an odd couple now that I look back in my memories time capsule. He was content staying in his home reading the newspapers and listening to someone play the organ. I remember banging out Sunday church tunes while grandma clipped his toenails for him. I don’t remember his passing or the mourning loved ones. It was like he just wasn’t there anymore. His organ showed up at grandma’s house and I tried very hard to make the music sound nice. I pray it helped him find the elusive heavenly gates in the back yard.

During the school season I lived with my mother but ever morning before going out to meet the bus. I called grandpa on the phone. That number should be forever implanted into my mind but sadly enough everything has a time to leave. We would ramble about our dreams and he would tell me to be good and we never said goodbye. Saying goodbye meant you would never see that person again and I never wanted him to leave my side. He was my life line, my savor. One call of distress and someone would come and whisk me away taking me straight to him. The saddest day of my life was the call the grandma answered and told me I would never talk to him again. After the funeral I watched his dog walk off and never come back followed by his wonderful trees and bushes. Even the flowers stopped blooming or lost their vibrant colors. The days became dull and grey.

Grandma’s smile wasn’t so bright and she would forget to wash or comb her hair. I didn’t smell the Avon Sweet Honesty through out the house. We had to watch where we sat on the couch because when she was in a mood she refused to get out of her spot. Firs I moved in to help with the upkeep of the house. My Aunt Sissy would come everyday to make sure she ate healthy and had clean clothes to wear. It was decided that two females shouldn’t living alone so my older male cousin moved in to keep a watch out for the both of us. His best friends came over frequently and one of them, even though he was much older, became my best friend. As time rolled on he became like a brother to me and acted like a big brother as well. He taught me how to play chess and we would talk about God’s promises. Though I never told him how the Gates to paradise disappeared. He helped me smile again and he listened to me and respected me. He praised every good job and picked at every boyfriend I had.

Time moved on like it always does. We kept in touch until one cool summer day I ran away. Moore like drove away, cross country far away. I was running from my past and away from my future. Needed to get a fresh place and a different pace in my life. There was no idea of what was wanted or even where to go. Staying with a friend and her family until everything could be figured out. A few months felt like a lifetime and not everyone has to be around for a person to wear out the welcome. It was time to get on the move again. Missing family and friends made the travel time home go by quicker then it did getting to where I was. WhenI was finally there but not I had a lot of growing up to do. An adult just doesn’t run away from there life. I found a job, then a place to live just to find out I was not welcome with my family and my friendship pool was lightened.

My one constant was there for me to cry on his shoulder and get over the loss of grandma and the many family members that no longer had time for me or treated me like I had died myself. Though he was newly married and I even felt a little strange speaking with him about my life. He was to happy with his new life, new wife to have to listen to mine. I moved on again trying to make my way again. It wasn’t long again when the Dr’s found something wrong and needed fixing immediately. I prepared my mind for the worst and attempted to make my last goodbye to my mother. I planned on never speaking to her again. Never did the thought occurs me that my up and coming death notification would make her jump to her feet and welcome me home. She was there through the major surgery and recuperation. She even help me get an awesome job at the time. Finance was and still is awesome, mentally disturbing then and still is and unbelievably I am still there. It wasn’t long that melon lost but happy brother walked in to the same employment. There we caught up as he told me wonderful stories of his wife and he listened to my found love for religion again. We both seemed happy with the way our paths where taking us.

One moment in time he asked if I could help him get his wife a job. I explained how civilians found their way in and not long after I met the misses. We became sociable friends and closer as we both became pregnant a year apart. Work hardships, mental abuse and maybe even a little discrimination brought us even closer. Even though we spoke on a normal basis, I was not prepared to hear the news that my brother was facing the curtain and may be searching for the gates of ten thousand steps. My heart hurt and I promised to keep the family secret. Even though every fiber in me wanted to scream. There is not enough time. No!! The alarm clock sounded and he began his walk home. I’m not ready to say goodbye. I couldn’t on that day and I can’t now. I still ask him questions and beg him to say hi to grandpa and grand ma. I dream of one day having my garden with big trees and bushes where baby bunnies can play. Demonstrating the love and patience for Mother Nature that grandpa had. I want my son to see me smile and remember my favorite perfume while dance in the rain.

I never want to have to say good bye. Until we meet again up on the roof in heaven. That sounds a lot better.

Time Capsules of the Mind Who was the person that stated "You can never go back home." They didn't know how powerful the minds eye could be. As the days grow longer with the long awaited soft spring breezes. Birds are singing excitedly with the promise of a hot summer sun soon to come.

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lovingphantompatrol-blog · 7 years ago

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That Day

The day had to come when the Mr. would meet the last ex. I must ask a question before I go on. Why is it the last ex is this mind numbing internal competition to the here and now? I suppose it’s that way with females as I have unfriendly feelings to my Mr.’s last ex. That though of wondering what they where like and what attractions they held. Even though I had the ultimate meeting with his…

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lovingphantompatrol-blog · 8 years ago

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Sitting in the same room every day that is filled with people and still feeling like I’m all alone. Many thoughts bounce around in my head like a pinball machine on high score mode. Yet those thoughts feel like they can not be shared with anyone. Not in this room. Will not, can not be shared with another English-speaking soul! To think English is the only language I speak fluently. The people in my life at the moment are venomous creatures chewing on every piece of personal information they can receive. When this information can and will be distributed to the multitudes, then it will be regurgitate at the worst possible time in my life.

After having many emotional knife blades stabbing my brains grey matter. To the point that it spills through my eye sockets and dribbles from my ears. I hit that subliminal wall that is constructed in every living persons conscience. After many months of keeping my problem solving thoughts to myself. I have decided to make my thoughts known to whomever feels the need to read about the mind numbing, disturbing thoughts that creep through my mind. again if you make it to the end of my story please comment of experiences, truths or facts. I really don’t want to be the only person living a lie.

While in the planning stages of my dream fairytale wedding. I learned from the Wiseman, that was picked to officiate that special moment in our lives, that the man I knew as my father was not the sperm donor I thought he was. Don’t get me wrong. Every person on the face of the earth has horror stories of their childhood. My childhood had its moment but for the most part it was I had a happy one.

Spending summer months with my fathers parents was always the best memories. Cousins, riding bikes, playing with dolls, eating junk food while sharing secrets of the days back then. Everyday was jammed packed with everyday child experiences that shaped out some of the person I am today. The words the wise man spoke as he named who the real sperm donor was. At the time did not shatter my world. I grew up with this man in my life ages 3 to 16. There where more shadows in those times but again many smiles made a day more livable.

I grew up on a farm in a little town that many people drive by everyday. When they blinked, they would miss it. Alone and lonely I was the female surrounded by rough and tough little boys. We where always getting into unmeasurable amounts of trouble. So I was constantly being punished for my unfeminine behavior. Not allowed to leave the yard for extended periods of time. So, I would talk and play with my animal friends. Soon I developed chores such as feeding or cleaning up after those animals. Even learned how to milk the cows. Many long days filled with hard work. When I got older and could count well enough, I went with my step father to sell vegetables on the road side. Sometimes I received tips from people shocked to see a kid of my age by the road selling food when I could have been home having fun.

My mother told me many times over that she left my father because he wouldn’t stop cheating on her. He would say mean things about or to her and hurt her feelings. She left my stepfather because he didn’t hold to a real job. The farm was falling apart because he gambled too much. Truth we did lose a lot of our live stock because of his poor gambling techniques. * Reality check; mom lost a lot of weight and she ran into an old flame. A so-called soul mate. At that time I was starting to move on my way at the tender age of 16. Babysitting kept me away from the house for many days at a time. Money in my pocket helped me to afford staying away for even more time.

After setting the Wiseman straight about my parental background by producing to him the birth certificate that my father signed all those many years ago. I had the perfect romantic, traditional, fantasy wedding a fly by her pants kinda girl could have. Time moved along then came the birthday I share every year with my son. A week later The marriage of my youngest stepson came then the birthday of my new to me granddaughter. As the birthday of my new husband approached I sweated out what I could get a man who lives the life he always wanted. A DNA test.?.

Cuddled up on the couch watching TV we saw a commercial about a young woman traveling the word to experience where her DNA is from. My husband in jest made a quizzical statement about finding out he was related to someone famous and I figured out loud I’d be related to a rock! Over the next few days of surfing the internet the same ad appeared many times over. DNA testing find out who you really are. Boom, I was sucked in. While signing up on line the DNA site tells me order 2 and get a nice discount. Okay save money and order 2!

The waiting had begun for the test to arrive in the mail. Daydreaming starts to develop on a daily basis. What if I’m related to someone famous or a famous serial killer? Then the memories flood back of a tearful preteen ripping through her stepfather’s office looking for adoption papers. I have nothing in common with my family. I don’t look like anyone in my family. I really don’t get along with anyone in my family. The lost feelings of being unloved and unwanted thrown away in my early twenties. Homeless and living out of my car until I found a young man who introduced me to some of his family. Some of them lost and alone just like me.

This man’s Uncle had property with chicken coops on it. The coops where remodeled on the inside for human living. I don’t remember how many where there. I do remember we all looked out for each other. The ones with cars gave rides to the ones that didn’t have a car. The ones that worked purchased food for the group. Some cleaned while others kept maintenance on the small houses. We all where the forgotten kids but we all worked together to be somebody at least in our circle. As far as I know we all succeeded in life thanks to an elderly man who believed in giveing kids a hand up and not a hard time.

Many years passed with me wondering who am I or what about me is so repulsive especially to my family. Aunts treating me like a Demon seed offering help only if I go to church. Actually there was a lot of people who questioned my beliefs in God. With God in my life I would not have ended up needing help. Without God I would not have traveled up and down those crazy roads of life while staying on my feet. The day has come and I’m closer to proving I belong not only in this world but I belong in this family. The test arrived in the mail. My husband and I sat at the kitchen counter going over the directions together to make sure we did it right.

Step 1: Spit in the bottle up to the dotted line.

Step 2: Clasp on the special bottle cap.

Step 3: Place bar code on the bottle

Step 4: Mail back to the lab.

It felt like we where spitting for hours but we got the job done. One step closer to figuring this whole family thing out.

My father is Native American and Dutch. My mother is Native American, Dutch, Spanish and Afro-American. I grew up learning the Native American ways and wondered if my genetics gave me the care free I will survive anything attitude. The smell of the world after a soft rain or the fresh smell of dirt in spring inspire me. I can make friends with almost all animals and have a soft spot in my heart for them before most humans. Its undeniable that is what I am. Then a little voice in the back of my head told me to remember my stepfather is Greek and unknown. My step fathers mother met his father while he was visiting in the mountains of Virginia or so the story was told. He had just got off the boat from Greece and brought her to New Jersey to get married and live their life together. He passed away a long time before she did. Now you will soon see whats been weighing so hard on my mind. I like dancing in the wind with no shoes on my feet. I can’t sit in one place to long, forever the gypsy in me won’t be still. What if my mother let some long ago secret slip out of her mouth and in to the ear of a Wiseman. At the time of my wedding it was assumed she was trying to upset me. Could she really have been cleaning out old bones in the closet of her subconscious? I always had many questions as to why things happened the way they did so long ago. Those in the know have been silent to long. the clock ticks loudly when it comes to the truth.

Waiting took forever and in time all worries where put to the side. Jokes forgotten about being related to royalty vs the city pauper. Life moved on as it always does, swiftly. As I walk trying to get my exercise steps in. I look over across the street to the house that once belonged to my grandparents and my heart breaks. The memories of days gone by with hugs, laughter and tears. That long ago where diluted by the winds of Father Time. The words of my grandparents echo in my ears and still haunt my dreams. Grandma’s smiling face as she cooks dinner while listening to her soap operas. Grand pop a sleep in the recliner before dinner. I no longer feel them within me.

The test results finally come in and sure enough my husband is related to royalty. Unfortunately the king was beheaded many years ago. Me on the other hand have no DNA markers for Native American,Dutch or Spanish. Who am I?

My highest DNA marker goes to India?

Life Sitting in the same room every day that is filled with people and still feeling like I'm all alone.

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lovingphantompatrol-blog · 8 years ago

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Pink The true beauty in delicate form above are the spaces of vibrant to the subtle hints of pink.

#fpj-photo-challenge

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lovingphantompatrol-blog · 8 years ago

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Life is Too Short

You never really realize how short time can be. Not until the stop watch starts ticking for you. Watching strangers pass by on the street. Some smiling, while others frown down at their own feet. Sometimes I stand back and wonder whats going on in the minds of others as they pass by in their own little worlds.

Sitting in the Doctors office patiently waiting and calmly listening for her speech…

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lovingphantompatrol-blog · 8 years ago

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My final countdown began 2 weeks before the big day and all the crazy was coming to a head. Every worry became a serious thought and then ever thought became a nightmare. By the time the wedding got here it is a wonder that I didn’t lose my mind and call off the whole darn thing. Never in my life would I admit to a soul that I had some doubts and they where all about me.

The spiritualist we choose to perform the wedding stopped by to discuss what he wanted done to the are of land that needed blessings. I was suffering through a mandatory that night so there for the conversation is second hand information but non the less disturbing. The kind and gentle man was some what confused of my heritage. He was informed by my mother that my real father was a white man that lived near the Jersey shore and not the Native American man that I claimed. My betrothed laughed a hearty laugh and ashore him my father lives across the street from us and was indeed invited to the celebration. The spiritualist left jolly as alway, or so I was told, I’m sure he had questions about me and my mother.

It defiantly had me asking questions about the past and every other childhood mystery leading up and into todays world. I was always told my father cheated on my mother a lot. She in turn just walked away with the clothes on our backs. My memories from back. then are in short snap movies. I can remember lying on the floor and rolling off of a crochet blanket on to some nasty green shag carpet. To this day I hate shag carpet! That was the first house and people where totally amazed when the rooms, mostly mine and the livening room where described so vividly. My next description was of an apartment complex. I was three then and that life experience was short lived. The rooms where small and most of the people my mother met where not nice. Then the little country town of Delmont NJ. I turned four years old when we moved there and thats when the white man became my step father. We lived there until I was sixteen. Not sure why this is important other then I almost sent that man an invitation to my big day. Yes, it would have been out of spite.

Every time I turned around a mandatory was awaiting. Younger co-workers always having a reason not to stay always kept me cycled to the top of the list. Employing my cousin to handle all the things I didn’t have time for was indeed a good move. She designed the decorations, wedding cake and all the little things that made the day special. She totally loved the idea that my day was a fantasy day programmed in my head for as long as I could remember. As the day came closer that made me nervous as well.. Again my mother. That part of the family is not high on my mothers favor list and I wasn’t to sure how she would handle seeing them at the wedding.

My maid of honor, a high school friend was planning to drive hours away just to be in my wedding. This filled me with great joy. She had stayed with me for a few weeks the

year before and me being the undying loner was happy when she landed her own place and became independent again. She still took care of my son and we had female bonding fun time. When she fell in love with her boo and moved away. I missed her immensely. I really did enjoy the company and late night talks. Every one needs to talk every now and then. I had so much I wanted to say to her and was extremely elated when she said she was coming home for me. Then it hit me, of all my friends my mother doesn’t like her a bit. Only two of my friends have had the wrath of my mother laid upon them. The first one speaks to me but really doesn’t have the time for me and now my maid of honor will be enemy number one in her sights. Ohh boy

I never felt so loved in my whole entire life as people from all over the the southern side of the U.S. said the would attend our little shing dig. Which by far was growing into something huge. The introvert in me was screaming out with mad hysteria and the adventurist was jumping for joy. Everything was coming together, the invitations showed up and where mailed out. Some people asked for a invite as a keep sake. That made me giddy. Never had I felt such positive energy.

The last free single day for my man and me was a Friday and thats when my cousin came over to decorate. She turned the back yard into a flower garden with huge butterflies gliding around. Yes, the where fake but in my imagination the where alive and could fly away with any and all misgivings. My paradise, soul calming place to regenerate after a bad day in the outside world would soon be invaded by family and friends that would celebrate our union together. Making my paradise even more special for me. A Buzz rule is this place is the neutral spot and everyone gets along here. Therefore I vowed to meditate and pray about my mothers new negativity and all will go well. Soon time would tell.

As my nerves of steel started to unravel so did I. The girl did not show to style my hair. The wedding planner / cousin thinks fast on her feet. She called her daughter and asked if she could squeeze me in. Her daughter is a hairstylist and one of the best in this area. She has gotten so good that you must make an appointment to see her. I’m so filled with dreamy air I don’t keep appointments. I used to see her every week now I’m lucky to see her in passing. She took me in between customers I just had to wash and dry my hair and she would do the rest. As always she did an awesome job.

I get home with a haze of smoking tires behind me. Thank God the cops around here are never around when I’m late. The wind has picked up and has blown some of the table decorations down. My maid of honor isn’t here yet and I wonder to myself is this when the dream ends. I wake up in a moment of Broken dreams that are scattered by the wind to the four corners of the world. Then people start showing up and wondering why I’m not dressed yet. Neither is my Groom. He is in his world cleaning this and checking that. Not a worry in the world. That is him, Mr. Laid back because it all comes together in the end. He stabilizes me and I breath and it is good. My maid of honor pulls in and now it is time to get dressed.

We wiggle into dresses with a non stop chatter of everything missed since the last time we spoke. Love and excitement spike the air around of as we describe are betrothed as make up is perfectly applied to our faces. A cousin comes in to the room with photographer in tow and begins to help me with my gloves while threatening him not to take any pictures of her. He doesn’t listen well and captures all the activity in the room. My cousin states the people are hungry and when is things going to start moving along. I’m ready, the flower girl is here looking extra adorable and the ring bearer is in the living room practicing holding the pillows with the rings on them. Ahh the husband to be is in the trenches cooking and not getting ready. Calming his nerves with work I’m sure. The door opens and closes, the bathroom door bangs shut and the sound of running water. There he is and I have his clothes in the bedroom with me. The room breaks out in laughter and with eyes closed someone puts his clothes in there with him on the dressing table. Life will be good.

A few minutes later the water has stopped and he is dressing while walking out the door. Only a man can get away with that. My posse regroups in the kitchen and we hear the change in music. The kitchen door swings open and I walk through I see the God son to my maid of honor and his date. Their eyes went wide with happy little lights dancing in them. I almost started to cry but then I heard someone say beautiful and my back went straight. Then I smiled instead feeling better then any other time in my life. The camera’s went wild while people murmured and gasped at my crew and myself. I knew my best girl was in pain as she struggled to walk and stand still for pictures but her smile was genuine and she glowed in the May sunshine. I thanked God for her presence and prayed for some relief.

The sacred circle was ready and blessed the smoke blew in circles through the air and it had a sweet smell to it. I watched as my soon to be son finished preparing the fire and tobacco for all the people that needed to offer it as they prayed for us. I stood still and watched all the friends and family that would soon be mine offer their prayers for a long, healthy and strong marriage for us. My heart filled with joy then sadness when I realized my family wasn’t present. The man chosen to give me away if my real father did not show wasn’t there either. Breathing deep and trying to maintain my calm. Deciding to break another rule and give myself away. Then I hear the spiritualist preacher ask who was going to give me away. Trying to be strong I answer me and stare at him eye to eye. He responds, this is the one rule you can not break.

My mind reeled in fifty different directions and my heart pounded in my ears. This was it! My day would be ruined and it was my fault. The tears started to build behind the eye sockets when I heard a squeaky voice whisper out. The man in the blue shirt. Was that my voice I wondered as I searched the faces on all those people I didn’t know and the few I had just recently met. I locked eyes with the youngest son of the man I so desperately wanted to marry. He stared back with determination and mouthed the word, Who? A deep breath and out came the name of a co-worker. I guess you could say he is like a brother, we had times of laughter, crying, and anger. There was always respect and always forgiveness. Maybe even love in a family kinda way.

The look on his face was priceless as his eyes grew wide and his mouth fell open. His face turned four shades of red when everyone started clapping for him and he took his place next to my side. I looked at my soon to be husband and we both smiled. The calm flooding into my soul would be instilled there permanently from this day forward.

The rest was a blur. We inhaled the sacred smoke that cleansed our hearts and soul. We received blessings from the great provider. We both got palm pricks and hands tied together making our blood mingle and binding us together forever as one. We where introduced to the world as husband and wife then I was welcomed in to my new family.

This day, our day was beautiful. The skies where blue and the breeze kept the heat down until night. A sprinkle of rain here and there are generations past with kisses and blessing to bestow. We all met new people and mingled, laughed and had a great time. The fake flowers and butterflies attracted real butterflies well in to the next day. My dreams have come true and may the fairytales never end.

The Big Day My final countdown began 2 weeks before the big day and all the crazy was coming to a head.

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