My Talisman Talks Back

Here is what my Talisman said to me about my own inner strength.

"It's so there, just a rumbling beneath the surface. Crack that barrier- it can be done so easily, a bit more clarity and it will happen. I have absorbed as much energy as I could as she carries me around in her bag. She knows I am there and I am gaining power, insight and confidence. The moment will come and up goes the geyser of strength and she will grab those ideas, swing from her dreams and land on that cloud".

"I feel the rumbling- I can see the excitement in her eyes- she knows it's there, she needs that push. I am looking to find that final step so I can make clear the path and then the break will happen".

"Keep steady the advancement, keep steady the building, keep steady the breathing, keep steady the passion".

it's rumbling- it will soon crack and her comes the geyser

You Were There

You were there when I realized that good music was more than top 40 radio.

You were there when my teen eyes and undamaged heart reached out to someone I thought I was in love with, only to have them reject me.

There were moments I struggled with what I believed was right and what other people were actually doing. You were there to tell me to stand tall and face them with me beliefs.

We spent hours together where I was searched for answers to my questions in your words. You had the ability to comfort me. You could explain pain and tragedy that I was feeling and told me of other peoples experiences. I realized my pain wasn't so bad.

Weeks flew by on my journey to discover who I wanted to be- you offered suggestions and a path- you told me I may never find the end but that I was not alone. The journey is the best part.

Some days I would get lost in your music and wander through the woods dancing to the beat and singing your songs.

You were always along for my road trips, how could I leave you at home?

Again you filled my dreams and thoughts.

Someone asked me once if I found what I am looking for and I said in you, yes. You were there for me when I needed you.

You changed your voice and kept your words fresh. Those words surrounded me with comfort.

You made me laugh, dance, remember and relive.

You taught me pieces, valuable to a good life- I met you when I was 14 and haven't stopped loving you.

You were there when the person I loved the most betrayed me and you gave me Walk on.

So, I still haven't found what I am truly looking for but upon the horizon is a one tree hill that will direct me to my next adventure and I know you will be with me, looking for that unforgettable fire.

The Love Story of Ida and Argell

The funeral is exactly as Ida would have wanted it.  A small Methodist church filled with expensive bouquets purchased only from the top florist in St Louis.  Near the altar a framed picture of Ida in her early years without one wrinkle on her perfect face.  The Bible reading was sacred and from her favorite section, the music was slow and spiritual.   Everyone in town was there to see the show more than pay their respects.  Ida’s 4 children were there with their children and spouses and in the middle of it all was Argell, her husband of 45 years.   

She lay in her coffin in a designer gown made for her on the 40 birthday, amazing that she still fit into it.  3 inch Jimmy Chos covered her feet and on her fingers were all of the diamonds she acquired over her lifetime.  Most people would have given those to their children and not taken them to their grave but Ida was convinced the only people who would end up with them would be the in-laws and that just would not do. 

Her jet black hair was pulled back tight, she would never been seen in public without perfect hair and never a gray to be found.   Powder covered he face to hide the wrinkles; she was particular about that when talking to the mortician.  Lastly, the signature red lipstick on what she thought was her best feature.    

The home that Argell and Ida shared was filled with casseroles and flowers that the neighbors brought by to offer their condolences.  It was impeccably clean thanks to the neighbor. 

Ida’s children and their families were all there.  Ida was a tough woman and set the standards for choices and behavior.  Her disappointment was that her children broke those rules to pieces, shattering her hopes for them.  Piece by piece the family broke apart so all that remained was Argell and Ida and patched up conversations with their mother. 

So as Argell stood in his living room, trying to pay attention to the people that came to support him, he could think of nothing but his last conversation with Ida.  How could he talk about it to anyone?  That secret should stay buried forever.

In the last years of her life, when Alzheimer’s started to take hold, she would have moments of clarity.  One moment happened as Argell read her favorite bible passage.  She interrupted his reading by saying, “I have something I want to talk to you about”.  She spoke those words so softly and with such affection that it surprised Argell. 

“It was accident Ida said.  It happened right after we were married.  I was filling the book shelf, in the bedroom when I dropped your book of Robert Frost poems, the one your father gave you.  The book was tattered and dog eared and I had wanted to throw it away but I knew it was important to you.”

Argell nodded it was tattered but he loved it. 

Ida continued, ‘When I dropped the book out popped out three letters bound with a rubber band.  I recognized the name on the letters it was Maryann Anderson”.

“That name brought back memories of the summer we spent at Green Lake.  That was the first time I met Maryann.  I remember her strawberry blonde hair, pulled up into a high pony tail with just enough wave on the end to give it bounce.  She was fearless, the only girl to grab the rope and swing out into the lake.  She was so petit she hardly made a splash.  She would surface with a huge, beautiful smile and start giggling.  Her laugh was so infectious.  I caught myself smiling, even though it’s not proper for a lady to run around with boys and jump off a rope swing.  I just sat there on my blanket in my white dress with the red belt and shoes watching you Argell Franklin, the catch of all catches and I saw how she looked at you, sweet Maryann, engaged to a boy she met on her travels Chicago but she looked at you with a tenderness she never shared with me.” 

What?  Said Argell

“Never mind we will get back to that later.”

Argell sat there with a confused look on his face and not sure he understood what she was saying.

“When I saw those letters I burst into a rage and opened each one.  It wasn’t until later I realized that you had not sent them.  You knew it was not right to contact her after she had made her decision to marry another man and you with a commitment to me.  That I do know about you.”

Argell in a gentle tone not fully grasping the moment asked.  “Why did you not tell me had found those letters?  I would have explained!”

“Argell I was there that summer, I saw, there was no need to explain.” 

“I stewed about those letters for months so much so that I could barely breathe at night knowing that they were there, taunting me.  Here I was a married women, Mrs. Argell Franklin of The Franklin Family, the most respected and wealthy family in the county to which I was now a member.  I had a beautiful estate, all the luxuries I could ever ask for, 4 beautiful children and all I could think about was Maryann.”

Argell interrupted, “you should have talked to me about it, and it was a boyhood crush nothing ever happened.”

“I know Argell but I don’t think you are hearing me”

What is the issue?

After thinking about Maryann I picked up the letters and proceeded to write her a letter.  It was of the nasty sort about betrayal and some other craziness but I finished the letter with my own name.  It was then I realized that I was not jealous of your love for her but that she did not love me.  I wanted her to love me.

“What are you telling me Ida, that you had a crush on Maryann?  Argell blinked and couldn’t tell if he was breathing.  The question lingered in the air as both Ida and Argell starred at each other.

Ida deep inside her head knew the answer but had never said it out loud.  She was a sinner of the biggest kind for wanting to love another woman.  She couldn’t help her affection for Maryann.  It was just there and she didn’t know how to stop it.

Ida took a deep breath and whispered out a yes.

So there in the hospital Ida told Argell she loved Maryann and she did send her a letter after all. 

Dear Maryann,

I hope this letter does not take you by surprise but it was many years ago that we met.

I married Argell Franklin and have been happy these many years.  I know that you two were once good friends and it is with regret I tell you that I will be passing away in a short period of time.

I have Alzheimer’s and it has taken its toll on me. 

I write this letter in hopes that you can look in on my Argell from time to time to make sure that he is ok.

I wish you the best and all the happiness in life.

Sincerely,

Ida Franklin

Argell just sat there not wanting to move for fear he would crumble.  How can this be, how did I not know.  Was he so blind?  After a few moments Argell worked up the energy to ask “Did you ever love me”.

Tears came to Ida’s eyes and a bright big smile grew across her face.  In a low whisper Ida said “always and forever.  It may seem like I have a small heart but there is plenty of room for you and her”

Argell stood up and touched Ida’s face and kissed her forehead.  “I must take a minute Ida I will be right back.  Argell stepped outside the room and shuffled down the hall to the waiting room window.  He looked out into the bright sunlight and thought back to that summer at Green Lake.  He smiled and thought “that was a really fun summer”

As he walked back to the room her knew Ida was gone.  He covered his eyes with his hands as the nurses came running into room.  Slowly he turned around and walked out of the hospital and called his son.

There in the living room, with all his children, on the day that his wife died, a knock came to the door.

The Cave

The Cave

The cave is a cool, protective place for me.  I have created a sanctuary, high above the river- up in the mountains.   I can see people as they walk through the woods and then stop to cool their feet in the river, but they cannot see me sitting above them.  It’s the perfect place to hide from the world. I can sit at the entrance leaning against the side where the wall is smooth and cradling to my tired body. 

Today I hear something coming from inside the cave like a percolating- old school coffee machine.  I have only ventured a short distance into the cave before but the sound is drawing me in.  I could swear I hear a voice but is it a voice or just an echo? 

My instincts tell me there are no dangers deep in the cave, so I begin my exploration and creep through the cave to the sound.  I want to run toward the sound but I take cautious movements just in case.  The sounds of a bubbling spring echoes off the walls and the temperature is getting much warmer, not cooler. 

The smell coming at me has just a hint of sulfur. Maybe it’s a hot spring that I have stumbled upon?  I stop to hear the voices again but everything is silent.  I continue forward running my hand against the smooth walls with small divots carved into them.  I cannot see much, only a faint light further back in the cave. 

As I walk, I can still feel the air getting warmer and it feels odd given I am in a cool cave, protected from the sun.  This cave is fascinating since the walls are smooth like water flowed through her, hollowing out a tunnel.  Water now flows below this cave and at some spots above it.  I wonder why the water stopped flowing through here and how long ago did this happen. 

Step by step through the cave, my mind goes crazy with explosive thoughts about what lies deep within these passages ways.  The further I get, the warmer I feel and now a cool breeze is hitting my feet.  The sensation is incredible since I cannot see much.  It’s getting lighter and lighter.  I must be coming to an opening. 

The sulfur smell has dissipated and now I have picked up a musky, spicy cologne smell.  Am I coming out along part of the river?  I cannot hear anything just that bubbling spring and a slight moaning as the breeze makes its way through the cave.  I step forward and make a sharp left where I can see more light.  I can go right and step back in the comfort of the cool darkness but I am compelled to see where this cave leads. 

A ways up, I stumble upon a pool of water which is open to the clear blue sky.  The fresh air lightly presses down on me and I can smell the forest just as I left her on the other side of the cave.  I bend down to touch the water and I am mesmerized by the touches of light on the water, deep in the cave and the minerals on the sandy bottom lighting up like a hidden treasure. 

The water is hot as I suspected.  For a cave that has been untouched for so long there are no signs of creepy crawlies or debris from the outside world.  The warmer air pushing its way into the cave is causing me to want to through down my towel and tap a nap in this warm and peaceful place. 

I decide to continue on to see if there is anything else to explore and as I move further into the cave I begin to hear voices again.  This saddens me because I know this place is somehow not a secret.  It’s a hidden gem to me but a place of reflection for someone else.  I hope that I can find the harmony I seek surrounded by the voices and presences of others.  I come to a section of rocks that look like a step ladder was carved into the wall, leading towards the sun. 

The voices I thought I heard now sound more like singing.  It’s that of a deep male voice.  For a moment I pause and the voice echoes into the cave, so rich and melodic that it surrounds me like the warm air and makes me smile.  I have heard this song before and even the voice.  For just a moment, I am back with the Lakota and I can see him singing with such passion.  He is singing the words of his people, asking the gods to protect their Well of Life and that the stranger that sits among them will guide the others to protect the sacred. 

The sacred is their future and the future of so many, depends on her.  I am the stranger but this is only a dream.  I have dreamt this dream many times after my wanderings of Cross Creek.  It seems so real, that my heart aches for him- the man who holds my soul but exists only in my dreams.  There is something wrong with me that I have resorted to making up a life that does not exist.

But as I stand there, I know this song- I need to know who sings it and grab for the ladder and with all my strength make my way up the stone stairs.  Step by step, I can feel my heart speed up.  Maybe he does exist and now my dream will be real.  The voice draws me near and I know this man, he is the protective warrior.  As I peak my head up I don’t see anyone and the singing has stopped- what has happened? 

I keep making my way up the ladder and as I look out I can see a small waterfall pulsing into a small pond and from there it appears to flow back into the ground and perhaps back into the cave.  I take the final step off the ladder, straddle a rock wall and come to the edge of the pool.  From the ladder the pool looked small but it’s actually larger in size and is protected by distinctive foliage not found here in the Rocky Mountains but more like on the island of Kauai in Hawaii.  It’s tropical with full pink and red flowers with a canopy of vines covering the pool and the waterfall.  A bit of sun is sneaking through the vines and once again making the water sparkle.  It’s a dream oasis, nothing I have ever seen and it strips my sour emotions and dazzles me with a bubbling hope.  Oh my I have discovered heaven.

I walk toward the pool and dip my hand into cool water.  I look around for any sign of people but the place looks untouched. I stare down at my reflection and wonder what I am doing wandering around in a cave and the woods on my own.  What happened to the social butterfly that always got people together to have parties and go on outings to the cabin or go to the pool?  Where did she go?  Now it’s just lonely, hidden excursions hoping that I don’t run into anyone so I can be alone and at peace.