Joyous Sunday/Ramadan all,
I started writing my biography in detail, but ain't happy with it ('scuse the poor English - ain't in the mood for anything "proper" today). I decided to share tidbits right now instead... things that are in my memory and coming forward for whatever reason. Don't expect much. It's a perfect cloudy day here in PA for writing. Earth & I could definitely benefit from a drenching downpour! Were ya ever SO in the mood for rain you could smell it, taste it, will it to fruition, only to have the Sun break loose with its light & warmth? ARRGGHH.
Anyway, here goes nuttin':
My age at the time is questionable - I'd say roughly I was maybe 17/18. One night my mom & I spent the time as usual... reading. She on the sofa & I on the chair; both of us engrossed in stories we weren't living ourselves. Mom was always an avid reader, and passed it onto me. Hell, in 1st or 2nd grade (been a loooong time so pardon the guessing) I won an award in my class for most books read - 144. Not "See spot run. Run spot run", either. By 5th grade I was tested reading at college level. Recalling this particular evening, nothing out of the ordinary happened. I should mention both my mom & I smoked, and did so while reading. We went to bed. The next morning the chair that I was sitting in the previous night bore a burned hole in the back of it, just about where the flip-side of my heart chakra is located. The hole was approximately 6" wide x 2" deep. Mom & I both awoke at about the same time and both saw this at about the same time as well. Our mouths fell open as our minds struggled with the why's/how's. If somehow my careless smoking was to blame, why hadn't the chair caught fire & ignited the livingroom? How could just a certain section of a flammable chair burn, and nothing else? Why was it where I sat the night before? Whyhowwhyhowwhyhow...? We discussed it for a small time that morning, and then nothing of it was mentioned again between us.
I've always had a 'thing' for butterflies! They're so beautiful, free, colorful, elusive, delicate... have a tattoo of a blue/purple one just above my right breast. It's supposed to look like an owl also, but because I chose different colors from the yellow/brown & orange in the original design, the owl effect is lost. My mother passed into another world on June 21, 1997... a Saturday. I smoked & drank myself silly all that day & night long. Sunday, 6/22/'97, in desperate need of yet more nicotine, I ventured out to the store 3 miles away... had been crying for hours and most assuredly looked aweful - didn't care. I returned home. Walking up the path to my apartment I noticed a butterfly perched, with wings fluttering, in a patch of dirt I'd meant to plant something in, to my right. No flowers. Nothing in this puny patch of ground could/would attract a butterfly! I'd never seen such a butterfly here in PA before - white wings with black/dark brown speckles. I immediately stopped and spoke aloud, "Mom?" I sat down on the top step of 2 cuz I couldn't take my eyes or attention off of this lone butterfly. Had a conversation & cried with the butterfly, it then flew away. Upon retiring inside, did a search for "butterflies" on the internet - a wealth of information on how butterflies are believed to be 'souls in transit' by many other cultures flooded my eyes & brain. I wasn't totally nutz after all for instictively sensing my dead mom was the butterfly ;)
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