Galactic Maya

Glimpses into wider realities and observations during life on planet Earth

Page 14

June 15,  1998: I gave Poppy his Father’s Day card a week early.  (D) says its next Sunday.   Poppy enjoyed it though, and besides, who needs a special day to honor a parent?  Anyone?
He mentioned something I neglected to record before.  He often awakens with the sensation of food at his lips and he tries to eat it.  This morning, it was vinaigrette salad.  I asked him if he actually tastes these foods.  Yes, he said, it is very real, and he gets frustrated because his teeth are not in when he tries!  These are not dreams, but more like twilight wakenings. 
Who is feeding Poppy?  Mom?

June 17,  1998: Poppy asked about Hospice today.  Obviously, he has been thinking about it “for you and the girls”, he said.  I kept my understanding of it short and to the point.  Then I said “I know this is tough.  I will not discuss it further, unless you want to.”  We gazed at one another, then I told him “This is between you and God now.”   “That’s true”, he said.  “It is just that I don’t feel like dying while I have the new baby to look forward to.” 


Several moments of complete silence spanned our time then.  He broke it when he said suddenly “I am not comfortable with my Will where it is; I want you to keep it with you in your room.”   Little by little, we make our way, Poppy and me.

June  18,1998:  Poppy has been closely following me about this afternoon.  I iced a cake and he watched then examined it.   I was mixing a salad and he stood close by to watch me.  I did the dishes, he stood right next to me, watching.  I don’t know what it is, but ever since I laid eyes on him when he walked through the door earlier, I have sensed a strange feeling.  I can’t help but look at him for some external sign.  But whatever it is, it feels very different.

June 19,  1998: Poppy stayed home today.  Something is definitely going on.   After I made potato salad and tended some chores, he pleaded with me to call Franklin Mint to see if his Marilyn Monroe doll was on the way.  I asked him why he wanted it so quickly. 
He literally put his hands together and, almost in tears, said “Oh, please!  I can’t wait!”  Then he threw his hands in the air and said “Some things have no rhyme or reason, child.”  (Shades of Lucanus!) 
He concerned me with his urgency, but it is part of this whole sense about him over the last few days.

June 21,  1998: I began having doubts today, feeling somewhat overwhelmed.  Am I trying to take on more than I can realistically handle?  Will I really stick with it?  What if I lose focus?  But my mind said loudly Don’t lose faith NOW!
I need to sit down and write out a timeline—like a five-year plan or something so that I don’t overwhelm myself with extraneous ideas.  This is suddenly very important to me.  Somehow, I just feel that there are a few more events I need to experience to add to my knowledge base before it kicks in.  But, what is IT?  I still have Reiki III training to experience, Poppy’s transition to experience.  Many things I have yet to accomplish and decide.  But I need a laundry list to help me remain grounded, focused.   I guess  this morning I am feeling as though I have been asked to take on a major task, and I am wondering if I can truly handle it well. 
Doubt keeps us honest, I think.

June 26, 1998: Today I decided to paint my room.  I want a Southwest look in here.  So far, it looks pretty good.  I was standing on a little ladder and painting over the door when I felt someone nudge it open.  It was Poppy. 
Without coming in, Poppy said  “Have you heard from Aaron lately?”  
I lowered my paintbrush in exasperation.   “No,  and I don’t expect I will anytime soon.  He’s  probably half way across the globe by now.” 
“Well,  you are going to hear from him soon—in a few weeks.”  I climbed down the ladder and opened the door. 
“Did he call?”  Poppy shook his head no. 
“Well, your psychic skills seem sharp these days; what made you say that?”  
“I don’t know.  I just ‘know‘.”  As he was brushing paint flakes from my hair, I said to him “Aaron has a new life now and so do I, Poppy.  I don’t think so.”  Poppy had that mischievous grin again. 
“We will see”, he whispered as he headed for the hallway. 

June 27, 1998: I noticed yesterday afternoon that Poppy’s pain medications are missing from his dresser drawer.  I looked all over his bedroom and bathroom.  I asked him last night about them.  He gave me this little-boy-got-caught look and said, “Oh, I don’t know–they aren’t there, huh?”  He paused, and then said, “I don’t need them anyway.” 
I know something is up here.  He offered no explanation as to where they might be located.  I really detected something was amiss by now. 
“Poppy, I should know where they are in case you ever DO need them.” 
He said no more.  I don’t believe he threw them out; he can’t be that confident, can he?  So, where are they?  Obviously, according to his alert demeanor, they aren’t in his body.

June 28, 1998 Dream:

All I recall is someone teaching me a method of drawing energy from blades of grass. As I watch the demonstration, the blades temporarily during white. I am shown how to draw that energy into my fingertips and reapply it.

Why is it that I have such neat dreams but can never recall the point?  What is the point, here?

June 29, 1998: President Clinton’s speech to University students in China was well said, I thought.  He appeared somewhat distracted at times.  I still sense in his eyes some sort of “departure” but I cannot define it.   I began noticing it while watching his 1997 State of the Union address.  Personally, I sense that this sex scandal push is much more about making it very difficult for Vice President Gore in year 2000 than it is about political morals (a contradictory phrase in itself!)  Since when is it a surprise that a President keeps a private girlfriend? 
Anyway, the light will eventually reach the depths here.  Ugly heads are beginning to poke through some real nervous smiles on television.   We are munchkins trying to help the Tin Man find his own heart, but we have some wicked witches in our midst. (Where did that come from?)
(Later): I am writing this while holding on the phone with Kaiser Hospital.   Poppy came out of his room about ten minutes ago with a bleeding bruise on his forearm with dark bruises all over both arms.  This one bruise is bleeding right through his skin pretty bad.   Blood is everywhere….  Oh, man!  Now Bandit is choking on something
(several minutes later....)
Bandit is okay now.  I pulled a clump of hair from his throat, but I am still holding for a nurse while replacing gauze every few minutes and applying pressure to Poppy’s arm and trying to comfort Bandit at the same time!  Help!
(Later): I just got off the phone with nurse “Julietta”.  She said the blood vessels under the skin are collapsing and bleeding through.  She said his blood platelets (clotting ability) are down and suggested I bring him in tonight, but Poppy refuses to go.  He is scheduled to see Dr. Tran tomorrow.  In the meantime, I have been able to slow down the bleeding.
Poppy had a glass of wine and went to bed.  My sleep tonight will be very light.  For the first time since the beginning, I am reconsidering Hospice. 
I just don’t know if I will be capable enough  to deal with what comes next, and next, and next….

June 30, 1998: Today marks one year since I came to visit Poppy “for a few days.”   It has probably been the most pivotal year in my life journey thus far.  I have strolled along the sidewalks of a very long tunnel, and I believe I am beginning to come at least to a midpoint.  The crises of last night perhaps are a clue that it is time to do some serious walking now. 
Oddly enough, all that charged-up emotional energy produced a flash-vision of Aaron, standing on the other side of a doorway and pressing.  He was watching, preparing to come in.  Both hands were grasping the door and he just peeked around it.  Then the vision vanished.    Maybe Poppy is right.

(Later): Poppy just returned from his doctor visit.  He simply said the doctor told him there is nothing to be done, avoid aspirin, and come back in three months—and they took his blood.  Dr. Tran is absolutely stunned that Poppy has come this far.  Obviously, he does not expect Poppy to go much further…but I do.  Maybe he will talk more with me tonight, or not.

July 01, 1998 Dream:

Recall accompanying Poppy to a car dealership. We sit down in an office. Poppy decides he is going to buy a new car, and we wait for his credit approval. Meanwhile, I turn to him and say “Are you sure you want to do this?” “Yes!” he bellows. There is a look of such happiness on his face because he is excited about making this decision now that he has seen the new car.

July 04, 1998: As I sit here in the early-morning stillness watching for dawn to break while I read, I have been aware of the beautiful cooing of the doves.  They evoke such happy anticipation, like a muffled trumpet being blown with soft, short breaths.  They cause me to recall the two doves I had when I lived in Auburn a few years ago.  Their names were Nostradamus and Corpernicus. 
We found Nostradamus dead in the cage one morning, and Aaron and I took him to his ranch outside of town.  I insisted on a little burial ceremony, and Aaron grudgingly obliged.   A few weeks after that, I brought Copernicus down to stay with Poppy while Aaron and I went off on a trip to Mexico.  Copernicus died on the second night and Poppy felt so sad and somehow responsible.  Of course, Poppy had no part in the death of Copernicus, but that was just his way. 
As I look back, I see a deeply symbolic meaning.  One dove hugs the earth at Aaron’s ranch, and the other hugs the earth surrounding Poppy”s home as though they somehow established an etheric link—a cord—between Aaron there and me, here.  Dove’s are known to be messengers.
(Later): Did I mention yet that it came to me to live my life as though it would be broadcast on that show Biography?
That makes one think about choosing wiser roads in life, huh?  Anyway, I had an interesting experience on this road of self-awareness this evening.  D and J came strolling in the front door a few hours ago, with J’s siblings and children in tow.  They all wanted to stay for the night!  I felt my body pulling in and tightening.  My emotions heightened.  I had attained a completely defensive posture, and for the first time, I was also not only completely AWARE of this “withdraw and defend” response, I found myself searching for answers as to WHY this autopilot-type reaction?  Instead of allowing the response to overtake me, I explored this. 
My first excuse was Well. this is not their home!  They can’t just bring people home at will and impose on Poppy like this! But, I explored further; Poppy had already made it clear that he welcomed the extra company and of course they could stay, so why was I still feeling so angry, defensive, protective, withdrawn?  My little voice encouraged me to get past the superficial excuses and to get to the root of this ingrained pattern that responds so negatively to perceived intrusion.  Why was I in this defensive mode, really? 
I came up with other excuses like Poppy is in no shape to have practical strangers witnessing his bad moments!  But even that did not hold up to the light of Truth.  Poppy appeared quite comfortable with all of them around.  Humm…I finally realized that it was MY privacy that I perceived as having been breached.  I hated feeling unexpectedly “invaded.”  The truth of the matter was that I was not being invaded in any way—all I had to do was go to my room if I wanted, or anywhere else—I was not being surrounded by the enemy, but my reflexive reaction sure acted like I was.  I don’t think I got to the heart-source of this yet, but I made headway. 
I still came up with one more flimsy excuse: This is a maternal instinct; it”s natural, so don’t make a deal about it. But even then, I knew that it was not that.  What is was, really, was that this reaction had nothing to do with what was actually going on in the present, but everything to do with something in my memory bank that “remembers.”   It is no longer applicable, I heard myself say inside. 
My little voice then said Okay, look up and smile at them. Let them know that they don’t need to feel like poop because you have a problem to work on.
Ingrained habit patterns apparently do not like being pried from their comfort zone.  I feel a rush of something running through my veins as I write this down, anxiousness, but I recognize that it is my subconscious feeling a bit intimidated that it is being undermined.   This is wonderful!
(Later): The Universe sure has a way of validating one’s inner work when one is aware that the work is being done.  “Poop” is not a word I would ordinarily use, either in speaking or in writing, but a few minutes ago, D came and sat down next to me.  She had apparently been in the potty-training mode with little R.  She said:
“Well, he hasn’t mastered the poop yet, but he will.”  Did I need a clearer message?

July 13, 1998: Poppy and I were enjoying our regular end-of-day conversation, darting our heads around the light between us from time to time, when he started telling me about a man at work who he believes is less than honest with clients.  I was formulating a response in my head, something like Well, what goes around comes around; but what came out of my mouth was “You cannot build a foundation upon sand.  Eventually, you will sink under your own weight.”  We just stared at each other for a moment.  Poppy’s face was all crunched up in bewilderment.  “Where did that come from?” he finally said.  I shrugged.  Poppy said, “Well, that fits….I guess.”
(Poppy’s dream):

I was writing on a spreadsheet in Hebrew! It was so much work and I was frustrated, like I was under pressure to get it done. I was feverishly writing all this like it was a test, maybe?

I asked him if he understood what he was writing while in the dream. He can’t remember but of course how could he?  He doesn’t know the Hebrew language. 
(Later): Well, I guess it was time for a reality check, and my wayward son appeared a few hours ago to provide it. 
I think he, too, is going through some major rethinking about the course of his life.  He told me that he has been ignoring his problems, and that he wanted to make a start at taking care of them.  The first “biggy” is a pile of outstanding traffic tickets.  This was the first I heard about it, but I suspect that the more we travel this road to recovery, the more I will be confronted with firsts.  Anyway, he said he had gone to an attorney who told him the best thing he could do was to turn himself in, but that he might do some jail time.  
Now, my honest maternal instincts kicked in.  I urged him to show the court that he is prepared to take responsibility for these unpaid tickets but that he needs to support his daughter!  Outline for them his sincere efforts!  Propose a payment plan!  Do community service!  Do whatever it takes to keep a good kid out of a stinking jail! 
He was beginning to at least talk about taking responsibility here, so I told him I was prepared to stand for him if need be.
Heck!  I would stand on my head while canning jelly if I had to, if it would help to bring him around!
Lord, it is a blessing to see some Light coming in for my son.  I send up my Light that he may find the strength and commitment now to accept his responsibilities and put this all behind him.  I am elated to have watched my son take a step in the right direction today. 
That one step on his own was worth more than a thousand admonitions he could have received from me or from anyone.  Period.

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Written by Galactic Maya

March 15, 2008 at 7:48 pm

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