Diane's Detox...Let's Heal

April 3, 2008………..Here Doesn’t Come the Judge

I slept well after my bath last night here in the house I built for Red. It seemed so strange knowing he will never be here in the flesh again. I truly believe his spirit is present. It certainly felt like he was here and my girlfriends said the same thing. Whenever his name was mentioned a gust of wind would blow through, a butterfly would flutter by, a door would slam and we would all experience spontaneous, simultaneous goose bumps.

Whatever spirit The Universe is providing for guidance is helping me hear Its messages very clearly. Everything for this past weekend fell together perfectly. I was comfortable with cleaning out the house of my belongings and I was able to maintain my composure with the neighbors. With my positive attitude and a lot of help from my friends I was doing just fine. I was riding the waves of life with its ebb and flow of circumstances I continued to find myself floating in. I felt I was handling things well and getting a lot accomplished. The tide was high and so was I.

The strongest message I kept getting or giving myself was, “Your best investment is your real estate. God ain’t gonna make any more land.” I could hear the voices of friends from northern Maine to Key West echoing in my ears telling me not to let the house go to foreclosure. I would work something out with the bank and manage to the pay the mortgage for awhile. Perhaps I would find someone to rent it or maybe I would turn it into another vacation rental. For now I’ll just see what happens next.

I could hear my cell phone ringing on the 3rd floor. I rarely got service here so I didn’t rush up stairs to answer it. The past few days of going up and down the stairs had physically drained my energy and I knew I needed to be careful not to over exert myself with my spider bite wound and the venom most likely still lurking in my body.

By the time I reached my cell phone, as I expected, it had gone to voice mail and service had disappeared. I decided this was a good time to walk up to the top of the mountain where I knew I had strong cell reception. While there I could retrieve messages and check on the collection basin and cistern Red and I had built to provide water for the house. One of our daily rituals while at the house was to walk up the mountain to check the cistern and then to the top to make our phone calls.

I walked slowly through the woods and reached The Rocks. I sat down to breathe in the mountain air and thank God for my place in life. Keeping a constant attitude of gratitude can sometimes be a challenge but when I take the time to be thankful things always go more easily. I laughed and realized how so many times in the distant past when I’d been placed in a difficult, unpleasant position, I would sit and cry and ask God, “Why me? What have I done to deserve this?” Now I know God doesn’t do anything to us to punish us. Things just happen. God is Love.

Fortunately, no matter what happens, I accept the things I cannot change and thank The Universe for Its gifts. Funny, it’s easy to be thankful when everything is going perfectly but it is more important to be thankful when we perceive things aren’t going exactly as planned. Letting go of our expectations, our guilt and our worries when we are in an unpleasant situation is a difficult lesson. But, I know there are no mistakes. Oh, have I said before? I’ll say it again. Really, there are no mistakes.

The Chinese coined the phrase “going with the flow.” They teach that water is the strongest element. It can cut through even the toughest rock. If we are to be the strongest we can be we must be like water and go with the flow.

After a few minutes of breathing and prayers I listened to my voice messages. My sons and a few friends had called to make sure I was doing ok and there was a message from the courthouse. The judge who was supposed to hear my Testamentary Thursday morning was in the hospital for surgery and my case was rescheduled to the following Thursday. This county only had one judge.

I called the courthouse to let them know I had received their message and hoped the judge was going to be ok. They were apologetic as they knew I had traveled seven hours and had hoped to be sworn in on the spot last week when I appeared at the courthouse, now the appointment I had made with them had been cancelled.

I heard myself tell the woman on the phone I would keep myself busy till the following week and was happy to reschedule. I also added, “I’ll call you next Monday to see how the judge is doing and make sure she’ll be hearing cases on Thursday. The most important thing is for her to be well. I will pray for her.”

The woman with the lovely Georgia accent thanked me for understanding and as I hung up my cell phone I smiled and thought, “Well, this is one of those things I cannot change. Maybe it’s good to meditate before every phone call.”

Perhaps this was an even stronger message about keeping the property because there was absolutely nothing I could do with the house until it was in my name.

The mountain air was so clean and fresh it nearly took my breath away. It was so quiet I swore I could hear the trees growing. Looking out over these beautiful blossoms of spring time made me peaceful and happy to be here. Now I was conveniently inconvenienced to have to stay another week to appreciate the beauty this property had to offer. Red’s ashes were in the ground here, there and everywhere and his essence is part of all nature now, everywhere. I felt him strongest here at the mountain.

I thought of the first time he brought me to this mountain called Wolf’s Peak or Wolf’s Scratch or maybe Wolf’s Notch, I got a different story every time. He wanted to show me where he wanted to spend the rest of his days. He’d brought other potential life partners here and they said, “You don’t really expect me to live out HERE?” Maybe I loved it so much because it reminded me of growing up in Maine. I remembered how happy he was when I fell in love with these woods.

The Chinese believe Nature is God and looking around me there’s no doubt in my mind they are 100% right. The White Mountain Laurel, the scarlet azaleas and the new-green growth popping out on the hardwoods was more than breath taking; it was goose-bump-producing. If the court hearing had not been postponed till next week I would not be sitting here realizing, if I play my cards right, I can continue to enjoy this mountain for years to come. We shall see.

I continued to sit and think about the events of last Thursday that resulted in my being here now. Here I was, still fighting The Spider Bite but realizing the messages to get up here were becoming more and more urgent through the dreams of Red asking me to reclaim his belongings.

Then getting online to read my psychic friend’s email coordinating with Polly and Rainey and here I was 5 days later with so much work done, so much accomplished. I was feeling a little more like my old self and feeling pretty wonderful. Thanks for the reinforcement Universe. We all need a little spontaneous encouragement every once in awhile and I felt this was going well.

I tried not to wish Red were here to enjoy it with me, to walk hand in hand as we always did when we were together. I tried not to feel alone.

As I got up from The Rock, I decided to walk down the hill and I realized since I was staying here another week, I needed to go into town for groceries. Maybe I would go into Atlanta and spend a couple of nights with Patty. I hadn’t been online for 4 days and was feeling a little out of touch with the world. Besides, I could work on the last credit card balance and a few things I had been considering for my DianesDetox site.

It felt very strange not to have to consult someone when I made a decision to do something. Me, myself and I, made my decisions now.

Here at Patty’s I have just redressed my lovely shrinking spider bite wound, Judge Judy is on and all is good. Well, in my world it’s good, some of those people on Judge Judy need to take breathing lessons. I am looking forward to a time when I don’t have to tend to the hole in my arm daily but I am thankful it’s getting smaller and less painful every day.

I’d been able to negotiate and settle the last credit card balance. Now all I have to do is refinance the house in Georgia, pay the mortgage, maintain it and NOT get overwhelmed with everything. Somehow, I think it will all work out and thank God I don’t live the lives of these people on Judge Judy!

I thought of the nice visit I’d had with Les and Tia last evening, complete with a few new stories. I had decided on the way down the driveway it was a good day for a ride across the mountain and touch base with old friends.

Les loved Red and the two of them were the best pair of story tellers I’ve ever met. Now Les had to tell the stories alone.

He started by saying, “I really hate to admit it but Red was a better guitar player than me,” and then he added, “That man could play any instrument.”

I said, “You are right, Les, he was a great guitar player. He could play anything, even the concertina.” Les laughed and said he remembered the time when they had the recording studio together and Red walked in while Les was in the middle of a dilemma. He needed someone to find a concertina and have someone play it in a commercial he was recording. Red said he would be right back.

Within a few minutes here came Red, concertina in hand, and of course, played it beautifully. I smiled and told Les I had the concertina on a shelf in the kitchen at the Suwannee house.

Talking about the recording studio reminded him of another Red-recording room story, “We would work for 24 hours at a time, making commercials, recording jingles, drinking and partying for hours on end. Ahhh, those were the days.”

He continued to tell me on this particular night they ran out of beer so he went to the local convenience store. They had a brand called Meister Brau on sale for $3 a case.

He brought the case of beer back and they started drinking it. They didn’t care for it much but it didn’t really matter. It was beer. By the end of the night they were writing hysterical lyrics for the cheap beer and they put their recordings on a tape and sent it to the brewery. The only lyric he remembered was, “If your girlfriend looks like a cow, drink another Meister Brau.”

A few weeks later, they received a letter from Meister Brau explaining how much they’d enjoyed their recordings. They laughed and loved their lyrics but regretfully couldn’t use any of the jingles in their advertising. They did request an address so they could send 20 cases of beer to them. Needless to say when the 20 cases of beer arrived, it was consumed.

Another story Les shared began, “Red was one of those people who would get a little ugly after half a bottle of tequila.” I nodded in agreement while he continued saying all he ever got was really “lovey” when he drank too much, with the exception of one very memorable night. For some reason, Les decided he wanted to pick a fight with an entire gang, believing they would fight him one at a time. He was ready to take them on when Red stepped in.

Les told me, “When his words weren’t changing my mind he just grabbed me by the back of the neck and drug me out to the band bus. He probably saved my life that night.”

As I listened to his stories I began to realize how many of the stories I had forgotten and how I really wish I had written them down over all these years. Even the telling of the stories were stories in themselves as there was always an element of competition for the laughter they drew from new audiences, new wives, and anyone else who would listen. Red and Les were true entertainers.

I was so glad I had stopped to listen to a few stories with my husband’s good friend on my way back to Patty’s house.

Back at the mountain house I sat on our Flexsteel sofa with tears streaming down my face beginning to realize, there’s more to grieving than I ever dreamed. How many tears can one woman cry? Better not ask.

I’d left Patty’s this morning to drive back up to my mountain home, worrying about my oldest son. Joshua called last night and left a message he was on the way to the hospital for an infection which had been causing a fever for a few days. I hoped to hear from him before I drove through Jasper and lost service. Fortunately, he did call and he was home on amoxicillin and recovering in bed. Thanks again, Universe.

I stopped by briefly to let the neighbors know I was back figuring they probably hadn’t noticed I left. They were drinking bourbon and feeling no pain at 10am and another neighbor was visiting with them. She told me she had just taken a Xanex because the stress from her job was getting to her. God bless them all and thank God I don’t use drugs and alcohol to erase my pain any more. I do not judge, because I have been there and by the grace of God I could be doing the same thing. I do remember the pain always came back worse after the effects of the drugs and alcohol were gone.

I brought my bags into the house and put away the few groceries I brought and decided to see if the tape player in the closet worked. I generally live in silence and decided it might it might be fun to go through some of the old cassette tapes marked as Red’s original music. I almost put one of the tapes in and something told me to try an unimportant cassette tape first to see if the machine worked. As I watched the machine eat the unimportant tape I thanked my intuition and decided to listen to the radio instead.

The first station I found brought me Garrison Keillor’s booming voice and I smiled when I recognized Red’s favorite radio program; All Things Considered. I sat and listened to Garrison doing a skit with a young woman and they were talking about how difficult relationships were with people in explosives. Then they decided relationships were difficult with anyone. I remembered having the same conversation repeatedly with my husband when he was alive.

Then some country singer came on and sang a song about waiting for his girl cause she was always worth waiting for. When it was his turn to go to the other side he would find a bench, if they had them there, and wait for her. I wondered how many widows listened to that song this afternoon and felt it had been sung for us. Let the tears flow, Diane. It’s ok and remember, it really is all good.

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