After having a heart-to-heart talk with the WRONG GRAVE, I left the cemetery, still driving A-Cad, still a bit discombobulated by my alternate ride. When I drive T-Hoe, I don't listen to that SiriusXM country station a lot. I have others tuned in to skim through in search of the best songs. I hear enough of Prime Country when sweaving along with Hick.
I pulled out onto the road with that country station still playing. I don't remember the song, since it had no special meaning to me, nor was it to my disliking, signaling me to seek something else. No sooner had I gotten A-Cad's wheels off the cemetery road and onto the outer road than a new song came on.
Patty Loveless. "How Can I Help You Say Goodbye."
"Oh, Val." you say. "What a coincidence! You stop to talk to your mom (or so you think) at the graveyard, and this song about letting go comes on."
Let me tell you a little about coincidence. The last time I heard this song was November 15. Yes. I'm sure of the date. I'm not some freaky Marilu Henner with that condition where you remember everything in your life. Nope. I might be freaky, but not in that way. I know the date, because I wrote about it on my supersecret blog. You know. Because I feared my plethora of readers here was getting tired of hearing about my ladybug sightings and things that go bump in the night over my head in my dark basement lair.
I should have seen this coming, though. Over the past several days, I should have been picking up what the cosmos was laying down. I did, once. But it was too little too late, I guess. I just needed this reminder to let go slapping me in the eardrums. Here's the foreshadowing to which I was oblivious.
Sunday night, Feb. 5--I had a dream about my mom. The Pony and I, in this dream, were at some wild college party, and I was entertaining people with stories, and Mom was sitting off to the side, looking pensive. I tried to include her in the festivities. Something like, "Isn't that right, Mom? What's wrong? You look like something's wrong." And Dream Mom said, "Well, I'm a little sad. My friend [REDACTED] just passed away." Dream Val said something to console her, and Dream Mom sighed and leaned her head over, closing her eyes to have a nap.
Let the record show this was one of those dreams that stick with you into the next morning. It was so vivid that on Monday morning, Feb. 6, I shed a little tear, thinking how sad Dream Mom had been while talking about her friend. But I reasoned through it. After all, they could be together now, eating slaw and wearing jeans with holes in the knee. Unless Mom had been keeping some dark secret, and was...um...in another place than her friend!
Monday morning, Feb. 6--I opened my email and saw a note from Blog Buddy Linda about an article she has in Sasee magazine. I went to the link to read it, and it was about her mom. Sweet and funny and touching. It made me think about my own mom some more.
Monday evening, Feb. 6--I was reading my regular blogs and saw that Blog Buddy Stephen had also written a post about his mom (and dad).
Monday night, Feb. 6--I was fiddling around in my dark basement lair, checking on my New Delly for The Pony's tuition bill, and playing the computer game he got me for Christmas. I glanced at the phone on my desk to check the time, and it was 11:11.
Tuesday early a.m., Feb 7--I went out to my recliner to watch some DVR shows. I chose The Middle, because I like to laugh, and The Pony and I have watched all the reruns through at least once. It's on the Hallmark channel around 8:00-10:00 p.m. This time I picked the episode "Halloween IV: The Ghost Story." Sue has a slumber party and holds a seance asking for Christopher Columbus to give her and the Wrestlerettes a sign, and then thinks she sees a silhouette of the Santa Maria.
I've seen that episode before. But on this night/early morning, I felt creeped out. Something weird in the air. Even though it's a sitcom that I've seen before, I thought to myself, "WHY am I watching THIS by myself at 2:45 a.m.?"
Tuesday early a.m., Feb 7--At 3:00 a.m I heard a big THUMP upstairs in the area of the kitchen/The Pony's room. Nobody was up there. Just a big THUMP. No footsteps. Not the furnace kicking on or off. Not the ductwork expanding or contracting. Just a big THUMP.
Tuesday morning, Feb 7--My first errand was to drop off Hick's 401K check at the financial advisor's office. My mom had her investments there, with a guy who goes to her church, so Hick said that was good enough for us. We opened an account with this guy with part of the inheritance, and we had a meeting with him last week about Hick's 40% retirement. It's not like we have a big choice around here. Anyhoo...the office is located just two doors down from the credit union where I was taking out some of The Pony's college money.
As I stepped out of A-Cad, looking down to make sure I didn't put a foot wrong, my legs all cattywompus because there's no running board like T-Hoe...the first thing I saw was a dime on the ground, right beside the car. I picked it up and put it in my pocket. A dime's a dime.
Tuesday midmorning, Feb. 7--The last errand on my schedule (before picking up lunch and a 44 oz Diet Coke, of course) was depositing The Pony's tuition money in the bank so I could write an eCheck. We got off easy with this kid, paying only 7% of his total fees out of his college savings. Not a full ride, but a 93% ride is good enough for Thevictorians!
As I pulled away from the bank, I glanced at A-Cad's clock (which was hard to find, I might add, not being clearly by the radio station display, where T-Hoe's clock is, but at the top of that screen for the backup camera). The time was 11:11.
Tuesday near noon, Feb. 7--I had a heart-to-heart talk to my mom's plot-neighbor, laughed at my mistake, pulled out of the cemetery, and heard that Patty Loveless song about letting go.
Oh, yeah. And I had forgotten (SHAME ON ME) until I was talking to my best ol' ex-teaching buddy Mabel at lunch on Wednesday...that February 4th was the anniversary of my mom's death.
I really should have remembered that.