Logical
types enjoy challenging their usual process. Nonlinear
thinking sets you on a different course. But is different
the same thing as better? The answer is yes if you believe
that change is good. Your intellectual equal is paralleling
your course step by step. This is more about coincidence
than imitation. Maybe you were destined to find each
other. Maybe your free wills just happen to be in sync.
The synergy of special people like you can produce powerful
results. You should be happy where you end up, together
or alone, by the end of the day.
(
... ok.. wHo's letting my hoRRorscope in on wHat's goin'
on here with me? .. destiny... is there suCh a tHing?..
i know how poWerful this can be.. can i haNdle iT.?
... )
iT.'s
all behind me .. the woRld.. tHat i know..
colours
faDin'.. aNtiquin' with tiMe..
my own
vintage of wiNe..
pRecious
dRops of liQuid taking form of the glass
tHat i
toast to the woRld before me..
- reX.
i put gRandmas'
piX on the fridge..here in cHi-town.. a piX of how i
remember her most.. at her kiTchen table with a "true
blue" burning in her ashtray.. and a cup of coffey
.. black perkulated folgers.. in her "i love gRandma"
cup i gave her for her birthday. eVeryday i would run
up and give her a big gRandma kiss.. i still do eVery
morning..
i
wonder wHat happened to that old formica taN table with
the bRown waVey sTripes? .. i look at all the objects
in the piX.. surrounding her.. trying to remember tHem..
and keep those memories close..
i almost
remember taking that piX of her as a child.. i wHas
always takin' piX as a kid.. sNeakin' up on someone..
or making them poSe.. for my sCrapbooks.. (some things
never cHange)
in the piX
of gRandma... sitting on her kiTchen table is her bRush
.. i remember tHat bRush.. i remember brushing her hair..
gRandma's hair.. brush in hand.. moving down.. gently
with eaCh sTroke.. i caN feel it.. you dont need a tiMe
machine invented to travel back.. all you need is your
mind's memories .. a full tank of sPirit in your souL..
and imagination.. my gRandma taught me about imagination..
and now im forever marked like a tRibesman with that
symbol on my right arM..
the youngest
gRandson.. i played her faVorite.. gRandma's boi.. i
performed without demand..
wantin' to
make her laugh.. sMile.. loVe me.. as i loVed her..
i remember
massagin' her shoulders.. and how i could feel the tension
release in her... letting go of the world that sometimes
pulled her down..
i pulled
her back up..
and sHe pulled
me up.. giving me the gift of expansion of my imagination..
breaking limits tHat sHe knew that i would be faced
with .. a world that she knew.. lessons tHat sHe faCed
and passed down..
we would
play "little people" .. with a whole collection
of minitures.. mice.. kittys.. farm animals.. the baby
jesus and mother mary.. we would take turns picking
out each one that we would then design our "homes"..
next to each other on tHat kitchen table.. using dominoes
as walls.. glass ashtrays as brilliant wiNdows.. chocolate
cHips defining pathwHays to each others work of arT..
the waVey brown lines of the table became roaDs.. and
we used paper napkins to dRaw mosiac designs for fablulous
throw rugs.. tHe liTTle people became alive.. as we
moVed tHem around and spoke for them.. creating our
oWn script as we went along.. tHose sTories we cReated
together were one of the most beautiful tHings of my
childhood.. and tHink this is why i have so many figurines
in my caS.a.. all of them are liTTle people.. with liFe
and eNergy.. and sTories..
gRandma wHas
full of stoRies.. and my faVorite ones would be the
ones told wHen i wHas goin' to beD. in the "eX.tra
rooM" with the bunkbeD.s .. we would roll out the
purple sleeping bags.. cause it wHas funner to sleep
in tHose tHan regular blankets and sHeets.. i definately
wHas a sLeeping bag boi.. heh! .. oNce my "camp"
wHas set up on the beD. she would sit beside me .. knowing
wHat i would ask..
"tell
me a sTory about the faMily"..
my faVorite..
!!!!..
sHe would
pull up a sTory about one of her children.. or a trip..
or i might eVen request a certain sTory about someone
in the faMily.. i tHink tHat wHas our wHay of gossip..
back tHen..
"tell
me about auntie noNi and uNcle leo.. "..
tHey were
tHe odd couple of the faMily.. tRuely in loVe.... always
getting in trouble... such funny antics ... right out
of "i love luCy" .. sHe wHas luCys match right
down to her reD. hair and cRazy schemes.. he wHas riCky
.. dark handsome.. eX.cept that he wHas sicilian.. but
had tHat same passion... and funny quirks.. and mann..
gRandma would make me laugh with their sTories.. and
take me with her to places and eVents that happened
before i wHas even here.. i loved to do that with her..
i wHas very curious about wHat happened before i wHas
born.. we crossed the borders of tiMe.. and sHe made
me loVe my faMily eVen more .. through eX.pessions of
her love for tHem.. i could tell she loved each and
eVeryone.. each one had a sPecial sTory..
we .. her
faMily are her treasures.. and it made me happy and
comforted as i fell asleep to see her feel that wHay..
it wHas such a wonderful wHay to fall asleep.. with
her voice lullin' me to sleepy-bagland.. many a times..
i fell asleep listenin' to the faMily playing caRds..
tHose were such comfortin' times for me as a child..
and secured me in a blanket of warmth..
soMetimes
gRandma and i would take naps together... and i discovered
something tHat i did not like about her... gRandma would
sNore! .. heh! .. and one tiMe i remember as a little
boi.. first discoverin' the annoyance of her sNorin'
while tryin' to nap.. i thought of a wHay where both
of us could sleep in peace.. i carefully sNuck out of
beD.. and went to the kiTchen and gRabbed a bag of the
large marshmellows.. sNuck back in the bedroom wHere
gRandma wHas sNorin' aWay.. and sTarted poppin' the
marshmellows in her open mouth .. figurin' this would
be the best wHay to make her quiet.. iT. did work at
first.. but after a few ... sHe jumped up coughin' up
a mouthful of slimey marshmellows! gaggin' for bReath...
i found out at a young age that my brillant plans wouldnt
always work.. she wHas ok.. and tHat "marshmellow"
sTory became one of the golden ones.. i had arrived!
..
well tHat
wHas the only time i ever tried to kill my gRandma..
the rest of the tiMe .. i just adored her.. and loved
spending time with her.. sHe wHas and still is my best-friend..
my gRandma
would love suMMer here in cHicago.. i tHink about her
wHen im walking around.. i feel her still.. telling
me to look around.. look at the beautiful gReens!!..
sHe loVes gReen and sometimes wHen i look at the beauty
around me i almost feel like sHe uses my eYes to see
the world ... to see paRts that she never got to see
in her liFe.. tHings that sHe might have only imagined..
sHe coNtinues her sight tHrough me..
soMetimes
i sPend a little eX.tra time looking.. just to let her
gaze.. and sometimes to hear wHat she might say..
eVeryday..
sHe is with me.. along with the others.. together in
my wooDs.. surficin' on the world around me.. telling
me they are there..
i see them
in the tRees.. feel tHem in the bReeze.. and touch them
with my souL.. holding tHem tight around me.. my protection
from the woRld that sometimes defines tHem as dead..
and goNe..
wHat do we
kNow about being dead? .. we are alive.. and i wont
let the "liVing woRld" tell me tHey are goNe..
wHen i can see them eVerywHere.. siGht is not always
wHat the eYes see..
aNother tHing
gRandma taught me... is to look at the woRld with your
souL.. you see more tHan with just your eYes.. you see
not just gReen.. but a world of gReens..
a paCt wHas
made with us in the liVing woRld.. one that wHas realized
wHen she left the sHell sHe wHas using to live in it..
we are togetHer
boNded in gReen.. foreVer..
aNd the wooD.s
..
tHey neVer
looked gReener..
