Like most people I pick and choose my memories. There are things that happened when I was a little girl that are etched in my mind. I can bring them to the forefront of my memory and enjoy a visit with my loved ones at a moments notice. I treasure these memories and I hope I am allowed to recall them until the day I die.
LaDonna and I are a year apart in age.
Johnny is two years younger than me. Our fathers were brothers. I have no memory of them when they were really young, but I have pictures and I have a ton of memories as we grew older.
This is Aunt Gene, Uncle Bill, LaDonna and Johnny Wray Humphreys. I am not sure where this photo was taken. Aunt Gene and Uncle Bill were just starting their lives together. They were in their early 20's.
This picture of LaDonna and me was taken out at Mama Pearls. I spent a lot of time 'out in the country' at their home while I was growing up.
One of my fondest memories concerned our determination to "camp out" at Mama Pearl's. We did this each summer, for 3 or 4 years and never once spent the night in a tent.
We worked all day long getting our 'tent' set up. Mama Pearl would give us some old quilts and we hung them on the clothes line to make the tent. We used another quilt for the floor and then each of us had a pillow and a patchwork quilt for sleeping. We made Johnny pack out all the 'stuff' we had to have for our adventure. He was more than willing to help...he also didn't have much choice. If he didn't help--he couldn't stay. He didn't mind. He wanted to camp as bad as we did.
We collected all our dolls, doll clothes, toy guns and flashlights. Since we were all scared of the dark, each one had their own flashlight. The main thing we were concerned about was food. We made peanut butter sandwiches, collected all the cookies and candy we could slip out the back door. We had sodas to drink and an ice bucket to keep them cold. We worked all day long to get our tent arranged like we wanted. It looked like we were going on a safari. Actually we were a mere 10 feet from the back door.
I remember we ate our supper in the tent. We also read some comic books or looked at the pictures and we played cards. As it started to get dark, we told ghost stories. Each one of us trying to scare the other two. It worked...we were all scared. About this time Johnny shined his flashlight on his face and we were about done for. He glowed in the dark. I was pretty sure he was possessed. That comment scared all of us...especially Johnny. He didn't know what 'possessed' was but he didn't like the idea at all!! About this time the cows came up to the fence which was about 15 feet from our tent. The cows made all sorts of 'cow noises'...none of which I was familiar with. The dogs started barking and Johnny turned his flash light on again. We all screamed and headed for the back door. I don't think we ever made it passed 8 p.m.
It was fun to visit my cousins in the country. For years we had a good time together. Aunt Gene talked Daddy into letting her pierce my ears. They took me to basketball games and baseball games. I was a maid of honor when LaDonna got married.
Then we all grew up and went our separate ways. Tommy and I lived in other states for most of our married lives. We moved home for about 3 years when Lisa was 4 and soon we had another little girl, Tami. We moved to Missouri when she was two. We have been gone since then except for vacations and emergencies.
We stopped by Aunt Gene's on our Labor Day trip. As luck would have it LaDonna was there. I hadn't seen her in years except for funerals. We started talking like we had seen each other last week. She showed me pictures of her missionary trip to Thailand and to Hong Kong. It was amazing to hear her testimony.
Anthony and Darla are my cousins on Mama's side of the family. I was 5 years older than Anthony and 7 years older than Darla. I always went on vacations with them. We were together all the time. Holidays, birthdays, shopping trips, supper; we were literally raised together. Since we have been grown Darla has become the sister I never had. She is my right arm in an emergency. If I can talk to Darla, things will be alright. She is a nurse and helped me so much when Mama was dying with Alzheimers. If we were at a hospital where she worked, my life was so much easier. She made sure I was as comfortable as anyone can be staying in a hospital with a loved one. I will forever be grateful to her. I miss her and wish our grandchildren and children could have grown up together.
This was Christmas when Grandma was still alive. It may have been her last Christmas. I don't have anymore pictures of her. We always celebrated Christmas together, usually on Christmas morning.
Uncle Gene was a great uncle. I love this picture. I think it was taken before he and Aunt Donna got married. I patterned my role as a wife after Aunt Donna. I watched her and I remember thinking 'when I grow up and get married I want to be like Aunt Donna.' And I did.
I don't get to see Anthony Gene much. We both live away from Clinton. Once again it is at funerals and every now and then at Christmas. Anthony is the perfect image of Granddaddy. I am sure Granddaddy looked just like this when he was a little boy.
While I was home Tommy and I went to Paducah to check on Aunt Donna. She had a hip replacement. She is doing good just has a lot of healing to do. Darla stayed with her. Here is a photo of us. Check out Darla's hands....some things never change:)
...
for us that is a good thing!
When James Earl Carter married Hazel Louise Hopper many, many years ago, the Carter family was soon to begin. As the years went by they were blessed with 7 sons and 4 daughters. I married one of those sons, Harold Thomas Carter, number 5 son, number 8 child.
I was very glad and a little overwhelmed to be part of a large family, since I was an only child. I could count most of my immediate family on 10 fingers and one toe. Was I in for a huge, delightful adventure? You better believe it!!! I love my Carter family. I enjoy belonging to such a fun loving, God worshiping, mischievous bunch of people. I sometimes forget that I ever was a Humphreys. It seems like I have always been a Carter and I have for the last 43 years.
Each year for the past 15 or 20 years, Labor Day Weekend has been designated as the time for the Carter Reunion. This year it was held at Bonnie and Bobby Joe Brunswick's church recreational center in Woodland Mills, Tenn. I really do not know the final count of how many of us were there but it was a good turn out with quite a few surprises. A lot of the younger generation had other obligations or had to work. They were missed and for a mere $5.00 I will tell to those absent, the most embarrassing stories we told about each of you:)
Unfortunately, the original clan of brothers and sisters has dwindled from 11 to 6. Each loss is felt. Each person is missed and remembered. We are all getting older. When people looked at Tommy they thought of Bobby. This was our first year without Bobby. He was there in Spirit and I am sure he had a good time like he always did.
Below are some of the photos that were taken. I am sure I missed getting a photo of everyone, but I tried:) I have to admit I did my fair share of talking, laughing, eating and talking some more. One fact I know for sure, Southern cooks can't be beat. The food as always was delicious.
Bill and Linda came in from St. Louis. Bill is now the leader of the pack. His twin brother Jim died a few years ago.
Ed and Mina live in Clinton and were there with their son Todd and his family.
Ed sang two Christian songs for us that everyone enjoyed. All the Carter's can sing. Hopefully they will someday put on a show for those of us who can't carry a tune.
Barbara and Bobby Hopper were there with their son, his wife and grandson.
Tommy and I were the only ones from our immediate family who could attend. Lisa and Lisle live in Florida, Melodi and Lacey live in California and Tami, Jacy and Logan live in Centralia, Mo. We are spread pretty thin but get together when we can. Love transcends mileage in our family. This shot of us is fairly normal... neither of us are doing what we were told to do.
The next photo was one of our most delightful surprises. We had not seen Leisha and Jeff Winters for seven years. It was wonderful to see them and their two sons, John Michael and Bryan Thomas....all the way from Mississippi. To make this visit even more special, Leisha is expecting a baby next April.
Barbara surprised Leisha with a few baby items...all for a little girl:) We are hoping for a little girl since they already have two sons but little boys just can't be beat either. They are mighty special.
Bonnie and Bobby opened their church to us all for fun and fellowship. I adore these two people...just love'em to pieces. We were pregnant close to the same time. There is only a month difference in age between Benita and Tami. The stories we share could fill a book.
Joanie and Dickie are next since she is the baby of the family. She is gonna hate that line, but I couldn't think of any other way to say it:)
Shane, Tracy and their family were there. It is hard to believe that Shane is old enough to retire from the military...but he is. We are so proud of him and all he has done for his country. I am glad he made it out safe and alive. Shane you are one of our heroes. You have a beautiful family.
Brent, Glenda, Cindy, Kay, Brandon and Cindy's grandson were there. I chased Brandon all over the place trying to get his photo. I have some great shots of his hat, his right arm that he threw up just as I snapped a photo!! But I gotcha...so there:)
Here are some photos that were taken randomly. One of my nicest surprises was finally meeting Virginia Garrison. We are facebook friends and talk every day but hadn't met...we are also cousins twice removed.
Virginia's mother used to give Chip candy when he was a little boy and she did again Saturday. As always he was glad to get it:)
DeeDee was there with her grandson. He is such a good baby. Everyone took turns holding him.
There were plenty of Aunts, Cousins, Sisters, and Uncles to go around.
Pearl and Tommy....
Pretty in Pink
It was good to see everyone. I am sure I missed someone in a photo, if I did it was an accident. I was having a wonderful time and snapped shots as I saw them. I have a bad case of the "something shiny syndrome" and have been known from time to time to start in one direction and end up somewhere else.
Tommy and I look forward to seeing you all next year, if not before. Love to all,
I have always wanted a room of my own. A place decorated to my taste, filled with things I love. My home reflects me everywhere but I also keep Tommy in mind when I decorate. I tone it down so he will be comfortable in our home. We buy what we both like. That is the way it should be. In a room of my own I would be surrounded by reds, yellows, burnt orange,greens and browns. The colors of Tuscany would be my shades of choice.
Years ago I read Virginia Woolf's book "A Room of Her Own". It is a book of essays written about life and all the complexities that go with life if you are a woman. One of her quotes that stuck in my mind is,"A woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction." I liked this quote before I ever put a pen to paper and began to write. If women are to have time for themselves, they have to take it, sometimes almost by force. I never had time for myself until I turned 60 and retired. I put my family first and I have no regrets about that. I would do it again in a heart beat and love the adventure all over again.
After retiring,my time was my own. Everything that had been placed on the back burner of my life now had full reign to step forward and be heard. I am glad to say it ripped, roared, ranted and cajoled me to the place I am now. I write, paint and enjoy life on my own terms. Tommy shares these feeling with me. Our motto concerning life now is "If not now...when?"
Seven weeks ago we began to build me a room of my own. We enclosed a patio that we no longer used. We thought the project would take a week to complete. We were so wrong. It took seven weeks, 3 fights and lots of laughs, oops and forgiveness to get this room done. I love it. It is everything I ever wanted and then some. It is me!!
The siding isn't on it yet. Tommy and Matthew are putting it on Monday. I am out of the building business...per Tommy's request and my answered prayer. We may tackle a bird house in the future...the very far away future.
Below are some pictures of our adventure from beginning to end.
All we had to do was fill in the patio using the roof, concrete floors and corner post that were already there. The north wall and sliding glass doors were already installed. However, the patio drops an inch every ten feet. It was not made to be enclosed. It is now!! But it fought us all the way until the last nail was in place. I was not much help to Tommy. In fact, I was in his way most of the time. However, like he says, "He couldn't have done it without me." That is debatable.
We also had to dig up the meanest, biggest rose bush in the world. We tried to save her but the lady stuck us every chance she got. So one hot afternoon when we had endured all of her pricks and thorns that we could take...we dug her up. Put her in a huge bucket and drug her out of our sight. I checked on her this morning. She is alive, well and growing in that darn bucket! Now I have to find a new home for her.
Week five it began to take shape and I knew the end was in sight. We still had to put the paneling on the walls and ceiling. We started with the ceiling. I really thought one of us might kill the other before this job was done. Here is where the bodies would have been buried:)
As luck would have it, we used the 'unused graves' to fill in the holes in our driveway:) It always helps to have a plan B.
After painting, I moved into my room. It is everything I love.
I am surrounded by light,flowers, music, and memories of people I loved but are no longer here. I have Grandma's curtains to cover my shelves. A look I have loved since I was a little girl. It is out of style but it is me for sure.
This is the south side and over looks the back yard and our woods.
I have several hummingbird feeders placed at my windows. They were the first things I put up. My art supplies are hidden for now behind the curtains. Soon they will be in plain sight along with a table resting behind the bench Mama gave me when she moved back to Kentucky. This will be a working room. Right now it smells like fresh paint but over the next few months it will smell like apple cinnamon. It will smell like home.
I really like this little nook. I took part of my door and turned it into a trellis, for some of my plants to climb. Hanging from the ceiling are supposed to be Chinese lanterns I bought in Florida. I can only find one right now. It is the red one and is battery operated. It gives a soft glow at night. I will find the other lantern's sometime when I am looking for something else.
Tommy and I built this table to hold my canvas. I also wanted a place to put my miniature palm trees. I have quotes from facebook on the back of the table.
I wrote a blog back in the early Spring about a house on the outskirts of Fulton that planted palm trees all around their house and how odd they looked in Missouri. It wasn't a month later, I saw these in the store and had to have them. They are ornamental and will stay in the house...but still I am always having to eat my words. I have said this many times 'my favorite food should be shoe leather.'
Here is the old rocking chair from FSH. I enjoy sitting in that old chair. The stories it could tell if it could talk.
I have sea shells from Florida and California and a rock from Alaska. A 175 year old tile from a roof in New Orleans. Driftwood from the Redwoods and the Pacific ocean. There are also lots of small lights in and among my treasures. I have bottles of sand and ocean water from every place we have been. Mamamae's presence is there too. Her vinegar bottle reflects the light on a shelf. Tommy's elk horns are finally on the wall. I intend to frame some of his hunting photos and place them on that wall.
This is the end of the photos and the beginning of a new phase in my life. I finally have a room of my own thanks to Tommy. I absolutely love it and him for all his hard work.
For me today was slow and easy compared to the whirl wind, mind blowing, head banging, hammer throwing days of the past six weeks. There was only one item on my 'to do list' that had to be done. I had to clean the floor so I can paint it tomorrow. Once it is dried, I will be ready to move in. I mopped the floor four times. The mission accomplished in less than two hours, leaving me delighted and free.
The rest of the day was slow and easy. It rained off and on all day, putting me in a mellow mood. Our area has missed most of the rain and storms that has played havoc with southern Missouri for weeks. We really did need a day of slow, easy rain.
I had moved all my junk out of the room we are building except for my rocking chair. This chair belonged to the State Hospital about 20 years ago. Every year the state has a sale and gets rid of some of their old furniture and bad ideas. The rocking chair was a mixture of both 'old furniture and bad ideas.'
These chairs used to line the buildings, sidewalks and outside porches where patients smoked, rocked and listened to their radios and the voices in there minds. Either enjoying a day of peace and solitude or waiting for the internal storm to surface causing havoc to be reaped on anyone in their immediate vicinity. Unfortunately, every so often a fight would break out and the rocking chairs became weapons or missiles. Eventually it was decided that the chairs had to go, they were too heavy and dangerous. Soon these chairs were replaced by other chairs much lighter in weight that also from time to time, became weapons or missiles.
One of our friends bought about 20 of those rocking chairs at the sale. Slowly, over the years he has given them away. He had one left and gave it to me a couple of weeks ago. I love it. It is painted red and has a home in the sun room.
Today I sat in that old rocking chair, watching it rain while listening to Kenny Chesney's new C.D. It was a perfect morning.
I had a cup of coffee within arm's reach. I sat rocking, looking and listening for about two hours. My mind was free falling most of that time. I mentally filled the room up with things I love. I thought of a new characters name for a story I have yet to write. I remembered friends and family, mentally recalling some very funny, good times. In my minds eye, I got a glimpse of what my future may hold. I liked what I saw.
Tommy promised me he would build me a room of my own and he did. I helped, but by and large he built it. He put a lot of love and effort into our adventure. It is everything I wanted and then some.
I probably do not count my blessings as often as I should. However,
when I look at Tommy I am always thankful that he is alive, healthy and with me. I tell him and God that every day...without fail.
Six months ago, he nearly died. Whatever happened to him was a fluke, an accident, or a mistake, the doctors still do not know the correct answer. He went from what was to be an overnight stay in the hospital to Intensive Care hooked up on life support in less than an hour. The procedure he had was a heart ablation. It was a long five hour operation, with little to no chance of anything going wrong. It was also a last ditch effort to get Tommy's heart back in normal sinus rhythm.
The operation went according to plan. The doctors had called me to tell me he was fine and I could see him in an hour. His primary physician, Dr. J. turned his back while he talked to his nurse. Out of nowhere...Tommy crashed. Suddenly, the normal organs that kept him alive quit working. His heart rate, blood pressure, breathing were all over the place. By the time they got him to ICU, he was on life support. His heart was working at 20%. Without machines, he would be dead.
Lisa and I were blindsided and numb. When we were finally allowed to see him, we didn't stay long. We were in the way. Machines were being added to his body, they strapped his hands down, inserted a tube down his throat because he was choking. They were inserting tubes everywhere as fast as they could. Never had my Marine been this close to death...or this fragile. Never had his wife been so scared. Over the course of the next few days, he took many dips and dives. Honestly, I did not think he would live. But someone did and he started to recover. Someone prayed and reached God's ear...or a lot of someone's prayed and touched God's ear. The doctor's could not believe the change in Tommy. They were prepared for the worst. When he started coming around it was almost hourly that a machine, a tube would be removed.
It is still a fog to me. The days all ran together. If someone held a gun to my head and said, "Tell me exactly what happened each day" I would be dead. I couldn't do it. Lisa and I slept in snatches of spent energy. I didn't have two working brain cells at the same time. I forgot to comb my hair. When I would go to the bathroom, I'd see myself and run a brush through the mess. I really didn't care. Neither did Lisa. We were with Tommy every minute that we could be. His caretakers were wonderful to Tommy and to us. They allowed us in there anytime and for as long as we wanted to stay. Once he started to recover some, we slept in ICU with him.
He had a two month recovery period where he was literally not supposed to do anything. It was winter and we could do that. Then the doctors told him, after a round of tests, tests, and more tests that he could do anything he felt like doing. What a relief.
Since then we have flown to Florida where he landed his first big shark, we are in the process of building a sun room and are almost done with it. That turned out to be more than we bargained for. It will be a lovely room and one we will enjoy. However, it was a big undertaking for the two of us. We will both be glad when it is done:)
I took 3 photos of Tommy when he was in intensive care. I wanted him to see what he went through. I had intended to post one and show how far he has come, but I can't. They are too personal, too raw. Even though I have them, I doubt if we ever look at them again. Some sights get burned into the psyche and never leave. Those 3 photos of Tommy have done that to me.
"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times..." described my day, on Monday July 22, 2013. Charles Dickens was heavy on my mind as we worked.
I bet he laughed his butt off at us that day! Personally, I could have used his moral support.
Tommy and I decided to enclose our patio and turn it into a sun room and a all year art room for me. I am a person who needs light. This room will provide all the light I need. It's not a huge room 16 x12...give or take a foot, with sloping ceilings, plenty of shelves for plants, and all the other things that will find a home there sooner or later. Tonight we finally finished putting up the paneling. As soon as we get the trim, I will be ready to clean and paint. This is when I get excited. However, a lot of building had to happen between this photo at the beginning and where we are now. The one week we thought we could do this in turned out to being probably a month.
To give a little background, we have doubled the size of our home over the past 34 years. We added a 24x 24 ft garage. However, when we did all this work we had a network of friends to help. There was Rick Ballard, Bobby Ballard, Joe Hazelett, Jody Hook and Harold Dickens and Lisa our oldest daughter who was living with us when we tore the front of the house out to enlarge our den and dining area. Our friends have moved away, or work hard and we hate to ask anything of them since we are retired. So this project was all the Tommy and Vicky show. We are also 15 or 20 years older than when we did our last project.
It was the first time Tommy and I worked together as a team...just the two of us. It will also be the last time we do this!! He did all the hard work of designing it and cutting the wood, often changing his mind and not telling me what he had decided to do. Little things like that. I was the blind dog who learned to 'fetch', duck and dodge.' Just call me 'Rover' and I might even possibly answer.
Tommy knows I am afraid of our ladders. They are as old as I am and in just about the same shape. Nothing on them works right. They are not sturdy, and if by chance you need to climb past the 2nd step, you have just taken your life into your own hands!
When we started paneling the ceiling the first part was easy. I had a T stick, a broom and my ladder. All I had to do was get my end of the 4x8 piece of paneling up against the bottom of the ceiling. It wasn't pretty to watch but I got my end in the right spot and it looks fine. We took a break and Tommy says something to the effect that this next piece would be harder because we had to climb higher up the ladder. The T stick could still be used but it was now 2 feet too short. So he tells me his plan. I am to climb the ladder to the 3rd rung, wedge my T stick into the corner of the creaky, wobbly ladder and hold the paneling on top of my head until he could get his end nailed and then he would run down and help me. I sat there with my mouth open, trying my best to understand how I was going to go up a ladder with my half of a 4x8 piece of plywood on my head.
This is where all hell broke loose. I put the paneling on my head and immediately got a cramp in my neck and shoulders...I wasn't even off the ground yet. Then I slowly take one step up the ladder. The T stick was in my way and without it I could not hold the paneling. So I am stuck on the bottom step. I am also enveloped in a wall of wood. I could not see anything at all, in any direction, but drooping wood.
About this time Tommy yells that I have to move, he can't hold his end forever. No s**t!! I didn't know what to do. So I stood there and tried to get up my nerve to pick up the T stick and go up another rung on the ladder. I made the step but lost the traction of the T stick. Then I forgot which direction the T stick had to go to firm up the ceiling. I was all over the place...any place but the right place. Finally I threw the T stick down and grabbed a huge wooden broom. It was barely within my reach, because I refused to let go of the ladder completely. Tommy couldn't see me under all the paneling and he wants to know what I am doing because I have almost knocked him off his ladder. He actually said, "Why are you making so much noise?? What is going on over there? You need to hurry up".
I told him I grabbed the broom and I was trying to use it to get the paneling off my head. fu$$*&***!!! was his reply. He wanted to know what I was doing with the broom. It was too long of a story to explain.
I had to go up the 3rd step. I just knew I was gonna die, I only hoped I took Tommy with me!!! This was all his fault. I am scared to the point of getting the hysterical tired giggles. That is the point I get where I am laughing uncontrollably and on the verge of busting out crying. At which time I am crying and laughing at the same time. If there had been people around me, they would have freaked out. There is not one thing I can do to stop this roller coaster once it has started to free fall. I am just along for the ride until I can regain control...or get a xanax.
I made the third step and I start loosing the paneling that is now only half way resting on top of my head. Tommy wants to know if I have my 'end in place'. I can't even see my end, much less know where it is. So I push the broom as hard as I could up the ladder. The paneling slides off my head just about the time Tommy hammers in his first nail. I try to catch it and I am screaming. All of a sudden I hear the hammer fly by in my direction. That is when I mentally pushed him off his ladder!!! twice!
He tells me to get down. Now we will have to do it the 'hard way'. Seriously, could it get any worse?? Yes unfortunately it could. We take a break and I find my self all too soon back up the p.o.s ladder.
I get on the hateful 3rd rung and am hanging on for dear life. Tommy drags the paneling over and once again I have it nestled on top of my lumpy head. I am so far from happy, I seriously do not think there is a chart where a frowny face could describe my feelings.
I pushed as hard as I could until I felt the wall we were connecting to. I yelled, "I'm there!" Tommy wants to know if I can see. Of course I can't see, I just ran into the wall that is all I know. He says, "You better be in there." and I mentally push him off the ladder again!!
He starts hammering and I am thrilled. Then he gets to my side and it is off by a country mile. He gives me the 'look' and I know he is really, really mad. That's fine with me because I am too. I tell him not to worry about it the trim will cover it. It will be fine. He is not happy but he settles down.
He starts laughing then. He wanted to know if I knew how crazy I looked with all the paneling on my head?? Oops there he mentally went flying through the sliding glass doors.
Finally, we are done with the paneling. It is really going to be a beautifull room. However, I am putting the Scarlett O'Hara to it when she stood in the empty fields and swore , "She would never be hungry again." Well, I am vowing that" I will never build another room with Tommy Carter again" . I told him this and he feels the same way. It was almost too much for us to do...but we did it...and we lived to tell the tale, but there is no way we will ever do it again!! Quoting Scarlett once again, "as God is my witness!!!!"
While strolling down the isles of a two car garage, enjoying the touch and feel of other people's junk, I spied several things I thought I could not live without.
There was a yellow antique child's chair, in good shape to be over 40 years old. The paint was peeling but the bottom was solid...that is more than I can say for mine. It needed a home and I needed a small chair to hold an amazing 3 foot fern. Sold...it was mine.
I also bought 4 wicker baskets in various sizes. Nestled in the midst of one of the baskets was the nosegay pictured above. I picked it up then placed it on the table. I didn't need a nosegay. I wandered around for about 20 minutes, making two trips back to the table where the nosegay lay in the midst of fruit jars, a lamp and a few pillowcases.
I picked it up twice, trying to imagine the story that belonged to the fake flowers. It had to have been a wedding bouquet, probably a second wedding since it was small. I wondered why someone would sell such a memory and for a mere fifty cents. I felt the lady watching me as I held her memories. I smiled and said, "I bet there is a story that belongs to this bouquet." She looked at me and said, "You don't want to know." Her smile never reached her eyes. I broke eye contact first. I felt like I had just opened a door that should have remained closed, perhaps locked.
The writer in me wanted to know the story. The woman in me felt like I should buy the flowers and leave. I added them to the pile of things I intended to purchase.
As I was paying the lady, she spoke in a low soft voice still filled with some kind of pain, telling me that the bouquet was "bad luck, very bad luck." Without thinking I told her I would take it home and burn it. She gave me my change saying, "Thank you."
When I got home I unloaded the car, took a photo of the flowers because I knew there would be some kind of story written about that day. A few minutes later, I took the flowers out to our fire pit, doused them with lighter fluid and watched the brief blaze. They were consumed in a matter of minutes. The day was hot, the fire made it unbearable. I lit a bundle of white sage and walked around the fire pit and back into my home. This is an old Apache cleansing ceremony my daughter Lisa told me about. I do this every time something bad happens. I say a prayer and walk from room to room letting the white sage purge the air and the prayer purge the problem.
Not every thought we have needs to be said aloud. Not every story we know needs to be fully told. Some things are better left to the imagination, some doors do not need to be opened. I believe we can touch people's lives briefly and deeply and never know their name.
