Galactic Maya

Glimpses into wider realities and observations during life on planet Earth

Journey Begins

August 10, 1997: Awoke at 5:00 a.m. to find Poppy standing in the hallway, sleepy and naked as he tried to conceal himself in the night shadows.   Since his voice is gone for now, he was thumping the walls and hopping like a rabbit! I was well into a belly laugh by the time he scurried back to his room.  He was afraid I wouldn’t awake in time to make my “mandatory” trip to Auburn!   What a dad.  He’s looking pretty spunky in spite of the chemo.

August 23, 1997: Brian–he troubles me most right now, yet he brings the most hope to my mind.   He has created so much difficutly for himself. I don’t know why, but I know that God knows.  I see in his eyes a young man waiting to claim his life–someday.

Poppy is waxing nostalgic tonight.  He and mom collected so many of those Franklin Mint dolls; celebs from Jacqueline Kennedy to Judy Garland.  Their absence in the little curio cabinet is suddenly bothering him.  He was especially sad not to have the Princess Diana doll.  That had been his favorite; reminded him of mom. He pulled out the old catalog and pointed to Diana.  He wants the doll ordered by phone – tonight!  Agh! Sometimes he just drives me nuts!

I’m off to Auburn again today and looking forward to a long ride into the foothills.  When I drive up the hill-up into the lush green trees, I feel as though I am moving toward a beautiful light.  Poppy is doing real well.  He bought several hats with silly little gadgets on them to put a little humor into losing his hair from the treatments.  Happily, the treatments will be over in a few more days!

August 31, 1997: Just got off the phone with Poppy.   I’m going home first thing tomorrow.   The news of Princess Di’s death has shaken him to tears.   Some place inside him must have known the Princess was leaving.  He was already preparing a special place in the curio for her.  Something tells me that to him, it was like losing mom all over again.

Sept. 04, 1997: I’m getting cabin fever.   Dad is off to work every morning like a spring bird.   I’m wondering what I’m even doing here.  So, I decided to do some volunteer work in town.   The Hospice Center was the closest place, so I drove over there.  This should keep me busy while I make some personal decisions.  It’s like I’m in some sort of limbo – not a clue about what to do.  Maybe that’s good.   I’m going back next week to interview with a woman named Rosa.  I like that name.

I’m thinking about teaching astrology classes again.  I went over to Spiritual Truth Center after reading that they are planning to host esoteric classes.   A very interesting meeting took place while I was waiting for the minister.   An attractive oriental woman was sitting across from me.  She said she is a Reiki Master.  We started chatting.  I told her that Reiki isn’t something I’m ready to explore in my life.  But then she blew me away with,  “Your mother doesn’t think so.”  What?  Mom has been gone for ten years! Mary claimed that my blond-haired mother and a Native American man were standing right behind me, and THEY would like to see me learn Reiki!   Todo, we are not in Kansas anymore. This episode reminds me of a dream I recorded in April of 1996:

I am leading my father up several flights of stairs. At one floor, we see mom and on the next floor we see Nonna, dad’s mom. I lead him to a painting at the end of the last hallway. It portrays two Native American men in traditional garb. A translucent smoke is arising out from an area at the back of the head of one man. I point to it and say, ‘See, dad? This is what it will be like when you pass over.’

 Sept. 09, 1997: This entry is not easy to record, but I must do it.   I met with Rosa at Hospice today.  During the conversation, I told her I was anxious to volunteer some time while I wait for my father to improve.  She started questioning me about his illness.   As I spoke, her face grew misty.   I had a flutter.   I denied that Poppy was in a serious condition.  He had completed his chemo without fanfare.   The physicians had said nothing and he was doing fine.   But Rosa asked my permission to contact his primary physician.   I had no problem with that.  Actually, I told her Poppy and I both would like to know where to go from here.

This afternoon Rosa called.   She said Poppy has been given about six months and had been recommended for Hospice.  This was an incredibly frightening moment.   It did not comfort me one bit to learn that I had to be the one to tell Poppy the news.   I lashed out!  I wanted to know why the physicians had not been up front about this from the beginning!  Rosa’s response was that it is left to the discretion of the doctor. She said my greatest volunteer work was to be at home with my father.

The irony of having chosen to volunteer for Hospice was not lost on me. Oh, God, please give me the words.

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Written by Galactic Maya

March 15, 2008 at 3:16 pm

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