Love and Peace

I am a little bit clairvoyant in that I can sense things before they happen or I’m able to see things before they occur. It doesn’t happen often and is sporadic to say the least. I inherited it from my father.

When he was a young man, he went home to Beaumont, TX to visit his parents, leaving my mother and new born baby, me, in Gulf Port, MS. It was a necessary trip I was told later in life as my father and his parents had been fighting and he felt it was important to reconcile with them.

He failed. Leaving he was halfway to Mississippi when he had the overwhelming sense of doom and turned around only to find his brother in the driveway telling him their mother had died. My father never forgave himself for leaving mad and not being able to tell his mother he was sorry.

Fortunately, I’ve never experienced such a vision with tragic repercussions. Mine are more whimsical. For example last night the hostess for our book club forgot that two members don’t eat shrimp and that she had intended to buy some chicken for them. I offered to go get some for her and she said the local Mapco (gas station) had the best fried chicken on our mountain so I made the quick trip to the station. As I got out of the car I saw a shiny penny on the ground. I said to myself, “A lucky penny.” And I picked it up. I entered the station to find only two chicken breasts left and no more being cooked.

However there was a day in our country’s history where many people woke and found that if only they had said this, or done that, or kissed their love one goodbye…if only they could know the future.

This morning I woke early to do my devotions and as I lit my candles I began to shake and cry and could not figure out why. And then I opened my book and saw the date 9/11. You would think that after eight years, I would not still be affected by the tragedy of that fateful day. And then I thought to myself, if I am feeling this way and I only witnessed it through television, how are all the many people who were actually there dealing with it?

Then I realized that if my reaction in some way could help relieve the pain in another then so be it. I may not be there in person with those that lost loved ones or were injured themselves, but I can in Spirit share their pain and loss and if that helps then I welcome the opportunity. It is the least I can do.

I firmly believe that it’s important to remember and honor this day but I also believe that it should be so that it in no way gives the people responsible credibility. They win if we continue to give them credit for ruining our lives. Instead we honor the ones that died for our country even if they did so unwillingly by remembering this day with love and peace in our hearts.

Time is Never Wasted

I'm supposed to be at a workshop right now, "writing your family stories," sponsored by the Chattanooga Writers Guild, of which I'm a member. We tried to get a grant to have this workshop and the planning committee realized it was too late so we decided to go with the concept and see what happened.

Designed for Hispanics in the community to learn to write their family stories, the committee had translators, facilitators of small groups, and assistants (such as me) all lined up to help. But not one Hispanic signed up for the course.

But God works in mysterious ways and instead over fifteen people heard about the workshop and came to learn to tell their family stories. Men, women, young, middle-aged and old showed up, each on a mission to share their stories and pass them down to their children and grandchildren.

Since there were enough helpers present I decided to leave once we broke off to small groups, knowing that I will be there the last two Thursdays to help if needed. And in the meantime, the CWG Vice-president and I talked and decided this was a good lesson for us in that we need to find out why the Hispanic community was not interested and how great it was that there were so many others who were. This is important too because I am the president-elect for the CWG board which begins a new year next week.

Sometimes when I volunteer for things and then find I'm not needed, I become frustrated but this time I was not. Going downtown after dinner I was treated with so many different delights that I don't often have the pleasure of seeing that it was worth the drive. First of all I followed a line of cars driving slowly down the mountain behind a huge truck filled to the brim with recycled cardboard from the recycle center in town. Most people were being patient, however the car in front of me seemed out of sorts and then I realized they were on the telephone. At least they were not texting!

My son Jason sent me a You Tube video today of a reenactment of a crash that killed a lot of people including a baby, which tore him up. The driver who caused the crash was sending a text message to a friend.

As I crossed the Tennessee River, the cool breeze coming in from the open windows picked up the scent of the new tar the state was pouring on the highway under construction downtown. Oddly it was a pleasant smell. I was amazed at the number of orange barrels lined up along the highway and was reminded of the black kerosene lanterns that lit up the roads when I was a child marking a construction zone.

Coming home, I passed the National Cemetery and saw the symmetry and angles of the headstones lined up one hill after another. The sun setting behind them cast a shadow so that the number of tombs appeared doubled. Out of place were the satellite discs standing behind the offices at the cemetery - beautiful mountain stone building and huge gray discs?

And then I was driving toward town through the university and there was no car, no student, no one in sight but I kept to the speed limit and drifted toward downtown only to look in my rear view mirror and see a car behind me being pulled over by a Chattanooga police car. I guess 25 was too slow for the person behind me.

Happy I was paying attention, I was even more happy when I passed through town to be rewarded with a magnificent sunset. Yellow skies, low clouds orange on the bottom and purple on top and I watched as a breeze passed by me and picked up a group of birds that flew together first swooping down then up then down again all in rhythm as if it were choreographed just for me.

The last thing I saw before I made the climb up my mountain was a crowd in the stadium at the Lookouts baseball game. As I crossed back over the river, the stadium to my right almost close enough to touch I glanced at the scoreboard and heard the crowd cheer. Oh how I love a baseball game at night! And then I realized the last game I went to was over a year ago. How did the time fly? It was Jason and Laura's wedding announcement party and he threw out the first pitch - a treat Laura secured for him. What fun that was. The family laughs at me because I keep score of what each player does at bat. But I get the last laugh when they turn to me and say, "What'd he do last time?"

And so it wasn't a wasted evening. Time is never wasted. Every minute is precious and I'm thankful that I have special events, tranquil drives, beautiful sunsets, and special memories to remind me.