I left church...the Catholic one...and every one...at age thirteen. I had no more use for the empty words, platititudes.....and the phony sanctity of the people who marched dutifully in each and every Sunday.
I sought answers....a read a lot, I took courses in Mythology (which included Christianity by the way) and I came up with nothing.
I am very based in reality. So much so that there were times in my life that I actually wished I could "go mad"....because it seemed to work out so well for those around me who did....a sister of mine, who wound up in the care of others for the rest of her life...and my ex husband, who was coddled in the arms of his well-to-do parents thereafter. Gosh. Wouldn't that be nice? Just say..."Fuck it!"...and have someone else pick up all the pieces. I could never manage to go there.
Nevertheless, I have had moments of what I refer to, to myself, as "moments of knowing." I don't pretend to know anything. Not a damned thing. But, I had a dream in high school the night before an oral exam in Spanish class. And I was called on to recite the alphabet, in Spanish. In my dream, I did just that and it was perfect. The next day, I had that test and I was asked to recite the alphabet. And it was perfect.
When, as a young adult, floundering around with no direction, I walked onto the campus of C.W.Post College on Long Island, I felt it. That feeling......that feeling of....this is right. Somehow, this is right. This is where I belong. And I did, at least, for a few years.
Before the call from the obstetrician about my pregnancy, I knew my baby was a girl. The fact just landed on me one day....it landed and it was, indeed, correct.
My ex and I were looking for a decent place to live in California. I saw an ad and made an appointment. That night I dreamt about a house on a hill...with a deck...and a view of San Francisco Bay. We drove up the house the next day...and there it was, just as I had dreamt it.....and we lived there for three years. Nothing was perfect.....mind you....but it was where we were and it was exactly as I pictured it in my dream.
When I came here to Italy to find a home, I looked at seven places. When I walked into this one.....I was standing in the doorway between the kitchen and what is now the dining room. I felt something....like....how can I describe it? A certainty. A light, gossamer curtain coming down....here you are....this is it....this is where you belong. And I said, out loud...to my realtor..."I love this place." It is where I am now.
I am the least "spiritual" person I can think of.....and I don't even know how to explain this without sounding absolutely nuts. I have no explanation for it...makes no sense to me whatsoever...but I will SWEAR to what I saw...and I saw...clearly...and for quite a while..like 10 minutes worth of "a while"...both the faces of Joan Rivers and Robin Williams in the sky...in clouds....clear...clear... unmistakable....Why? Who the hell am I? Why? Clear as the sun shining on those clouds....the two of them side by side, smiling....Am I crazy??? I SEE this!!!
After my beloved Steven died (German Shepherd/Great Dane mix)...my beautiful boy....I was heartbroken and despondent. About a month later, on the bus coming out of the Port Authority....there was a HUGE sign on the side of building...a picture of a gorgeous Shepherd.....It stayed there for a couple of weeks.....sometimes I thought about asking someone else if they could see it too......but I never had the nerve. I could not see a product....a brand name...nothing. Just a gorgeous dog. Is it only me? I was literally too afraid to ask anyone else if they saw it too.
Tonight, out on the balcony, I saw a dog face in the clouds. Floppy ears....snoot...slightly open mouth, slightly protruding tongue. It could have been Daffy...or Steve...or Harry. My twisted mind and hurting heart wanted to believe it was all three.....telling me it was ok.
If anyone asks, this is a work of fiction and I deny everything.....I do not see signs, read horoscopes, believe in conspiracy theories, read tea leaves or consult psychics. I am not crazy. And I know many people have much greater problems than my own. I have also never told anyone, ever, about any of this.
Dear Universe, I hope my sweet babies are alright.
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