The Blessing of "Aunties"

I was born in Alaska, and a native grandmother held me in church.  No one else could keep me quiet and content. She chewed the skins and made her last pair of mukluks for me.  I don't even know her name.  But I do know that she loved me.  And I know that we had a past life, in which I was her mother.  She checks in with me occasionally, and often smokes pipe with me.

 When I was two, my parents and I moved to Chicago, where I met Anna Esau.  I would crawl out of bed and totter downstairs to see Anna.  What I loved was that she adored me.  She didn't let me get away with anything, and at the same time she clearly loved me unconditionally.  I remember lots of laughter and cookies. 

One vivid memory is about my hair: it has always been very curly, and at the time, it was strawberry blond curls down to my lower back. People had so often told me my hair was pretty that I repeated it to others.  My mother was appalled and told me I shouldn't say such a thing.  But Anna Esau laughed and told Mom that I was just telling the truth.  I suspect the passersby were amused by it. 

When I was three, I had my tonsils out. I remember it clearly.  First, Mom and I went to the doctor, who took a blood sample.  Then we went to the hospital, and Anna was there.  She was an OR nurse.  I had to have a shot for pre-op. Now, when I was a year old, in Alaska, I had a serious infection and had to have shots.  I didn't like having the shots and wasn't going to let anyone do that to me again!  But . . . Anna was stronger than I, in will power even more than in physical strength.  She gave me the shot.  

She also took me into the OR and was there the whole time.  She helped me through the anesthesia process.  When I woke up I was in my hospital room with Anna right in my line of sight.

Anna had a friend, Freida, and Freida's father living in the apartment with her.  The elderly gentleman was an alcoholic.  Anna's response to that was to give him measured amounts of alcohol to drink - not enough to make him drunk but enough to keep him from painful withdrawal.  This man liked me, and he was also a carpenter.  He made me a toy chest.  It was quite beautiful.

Even when we  moved to a new apartment, Anna Esau was a part of my life.  She took Mom and me to an Estate Sale.  I spotted a beautiful little antique table, and I wanted it.  Anna had seen it too and had intended to buy it and take it home.  Instead, she bought it for me.  It was a long time before I recognized its value.  I was about forty years old when a friend who had worked at Sotheby's told me how valuable it was in money, though I already knew its value in love.

The last contact I had with Anna was a phone call.  It was surreal, partly because I had been asleep.  I had not heard from her in quite a while.  She asked about my parents, whether they were okay.  I told her they were.  Later, I found out they really weren't.  She knew.  My Dad told me that her mission was to keep families healthy - in many ways.  My parents were together for a while after that phone call, but finally they did divorce.  Both remarried.

I will never forget Miss Anna Esau: nurse extraordinaire; truth teller; lover of life; comforter of the little girl I once was.   

Beauty of the Vulture

My Dad and I are buying a house. Dad is vigorous for 82 years on the planet. He plans on fishing and maybe getting a part-time job. I am nearly finished writing a book, and will be working on getting it published.

The process of buying a house is new to me, and yesterday I was down in the dumps. A dear friend took me for a drive in the country, which was lovely. We went some places in the county where I had never been. I learned that Lake Whatcom is HUGE! We stopped on the way at a country store - lots of different things for sale. I bought some baby brussel sprout plants. We shared some espresso chip ice cream.

And the icing on the cake was watching a gorgeous turkey vulture swooping back and forth over the large mowed grassy area across the road. It was really quite stunning and beautiful. And then the vulture flew off.

Now many people think vultures are not beautiful. Some people think they are dirty. What is real is these scavengers play an extremely valuable and necessary function, preventing the spread of disease and keeping the environment clean.

So when I got home, I checked out Ted Andrews view of vultures in “Animal Speak.”

In alchemy, the vulture was a symbol of sublimation, particularly because of its resemblance to the eagle. The vulture was considered a sign of confirmation of a new relationship between the volatile aspects of life and the fixed, the psychic energies and the cosmic forces. It was a promise that the suffering of the immediate was temporary and necessary for a higher purpose was at work, even if not understood at the time. It reflects that no matter how difficult the life conditions, rescue is as imminent in your life as was the rescue of Prometheus by Hercules.

This fit so well - I had been stressed and the beauty of the vulture in flight was restorative. Today, I spoke with the realtor, who is doing her job perfectly. I know that very soon we will have a wonderful place to live.

Gratitude

Yesterday I did my grocery shopping. More than ever, I noticed how kind people were with me and with others. Almost everyone I encountered smiled, and everyone I talked with wished me a Happy Thanksgiving. I wonder whether, in the midst of economic challenges, knowing how many people are losing jobs, money they've invested, and sometimes their homes, we are all the more aware of what we have to be grateful for.

Tomorrow I will roast a turkey, and gather with neighbors and friends to share a holiday meal. Interestingly, we all eat somewhat differently. One friend is a vegetarian, another eats "All American", and I eat no grains and not much in the way of starches. The turkey will have no stuffing, and there will be no pie. Tee will make and eat her favorite vegetarian Mexican soup, Tee and Bill will eat garlic mashed potatoes and home made rolls, Bill and I will eat turkey, and we all will eat salad, asparagus and acai sorbet that is to die for. What we will have in common is a our friendship and our gratitude.

Somehow I am reminded of the first turkey I roasted. I was in my second year of law school, married less than a year, and my parents came to visit in St. Louis for Thanksgiving. I had not used the oven yet, and did not realize that the thermostat didn't work. Our turkey was done in half the time! Remarkably, it was one of the best turkeys I have eaten. When we took it out of the oven, we scrambled to finish fixing the rest of the meal, and had a good time together.

I was grateful that the turkey turned out despite the faulty thermostat, grateful for family, and grateful for the wonderful man I had married (later we divorced, not having had the skills to get through the rough times . . . and now we are just friends).

Gratitude is what this holiday is all about. I am grateful for a safe and comfortable place to live, for family and friends, for physical healing (I have some of the best doctors I know of), and for all that I have learned in my life. I am especially grateful to be doing the work that I was born to do: healing and writing.

Happy Thanksgiving!