Wonder Boy…We Wish you A Merry Christmas

Wonder Boy…Some History

Wonder Boy…On the Way

Classic

Momma & Dad's Wedding

Wonder Boy…The Beginning

October 5

Your Baby Cousin JAG, who would become your life long ally and collaborator was born today to my Sister-Who-Taught-Me-Most-of-the-Things-I-know.  Your silly Daddy-To-Be was pea green with enough envy to choke him, while I was happy, happy, happy.  It had to bode well for us, I reasoned, for no apparent reason.

October 6

The monthly curse arrives with a vengeance, dashing my fledgling optimism that heralded Cousin JAG’s arrival.  No worries, I am booked to have a D&C in about six weeks time, so my state of fertility can be ascertained.  I just know you are out there somewhere.

October 25

Early that Sunday morning, when the clocks fell back an hour, giving us another hour to kill before your Daddy-To-Be went out for coffee and donuts, you were conceived.  I remember that day well because I actually did all the tricks the doctors advise (lingering in bed, legs elevated so sperm meets egg –I know, I know,  too much information) before taking off like a whirling dervish,  in order to get the list of things done, that keep me wake at night.  I also remember some further trivia, I took a walk, across the street to the shopping mall, for therapeutic reasons only since no stores were open (before Sunday (gasp!) shopping).  The weather was mild, though overcast with foggy patches.  Little did we know what all that day would bring.

It was the day that our family unit expanded and then expanded some more, when the 2nd letter I wrote to the Toronto Star was printed. The family hiding your cousin, The Pretty Little Dutch Girl (Dad’s brother’s daughter) had a pique of conscience (or were they tired of feeding her, hiding her, worrying about her), so they contacted us.  Arrangements were made that your Daddy would go to her friend’s house when The Pretty Little Dutch Girl was out, await her return and confront her.  Bottom line, she came home with your Daddy and that is how you have a Big Cousin cum Sister all wrapped into one.

October 27

You are cozily ensconced in there but we don’t suspect a thing, as we go to meet up with The Pretty Little Dutch Girl’s Guidance???? Counsellor.  “She is so smart”, Mrs. Warneck says (aka Mrs. No Neck – it appears her head has been plopped on her shoulders because she has no visible neck) ,”but how do we get her to come to school?” Ah, a rhetorical question that plagued us for both her, then you.  I know, I know, Wonder Boy, you get bored easily, especially if you know more than the teacher.

October 31

It was your first (so to speak) Halloween – a cool, crisp, clear night with lots of star and star wars! Whatever happened to being a witch, with a pointed hat and crooked nose?  Those days your Uncle was still married to a lovely lady who shared my sense of humor, even if I was a Mangiacake.  We went to their home that night –  your Dad and uncle were to hand out treats while the ladies took out your cousins Trick or Treating.  And so I decided to play a funny on the guys.  I put on a mask, got on my knees and rang the bell.  (I still remember, I had on a pair of tight jeans that made it very tricky – I am so glad I don’t do “tight” anymore), When the guys opened the door, I said, “Trick or Treat” in a little girl voice – of course they did not recognize me – we laughed so hard, I thought I’d pee myself – sorry if I jostled you up a bit but I did not suspect your existence, I swear.

Freedom

Just a Toddler. Sweet & Innocent

Older & Wiser… last formal pic.

You want to think you know all there is to know about the other half… Knew him over 39 years…Married 38 years… Till he bought the farm… Went to his Happy Hunting Farm (not so bad a place to go… I’m thinking)… Ascended to Paradise to be surrounded with the love of his already dearly departed family, awaiting his inevitable arrival (our Comforting Christian Conclusion… well with our anything goes… we are One in the Spirit Church).

A lotta different books. Fr: Morguefile

Let’s get serious… you know your Better Half… but do ya really ‘no’ your Better Half… Time for Truth and Reconciliation… Sometimes you’re on the same page… Sometimes you are in a different book… Yet come any emergency and you are 100% on the same team, pushing that huge, insurmountable, ice laden snowball… Up the hill… In tandem… You betcha… Depend on it… In this you crystal clear trust, know and depend on your Better Half. (Oh, and if you can’t…move on)

Secrets??? ME????

You know then (death’s probably not the time for self denial… Man-up, woman-up, they-up  time)…. We all have secrets… We take to our grave…Maybe even I do… I already feel my school girl blush, my whole body suffused in the agony of sweat and shame…

Judgement Day
From Morguefile.com
ruined_doorway.jpg
By hotblack

Will those inevitable take to your grave or no one would see you the same secrets be revealed in Heaven to everyone… Or just to our Confessor(s) who has/have taken an Oath of Silence… At the threat of a browbeating by his/their Confessor… No lashes or hair shirts in my  Heaven… Just higher learning to recognize the error of your Earthly Ways and Improve the Process…. That’s my theory… And I’m a gonna run with it… But you can  run anyway you want because:

Death gives us Freedom, Freedom…

The Freedom… We’re all looking for:              (Paraphrase Kyrre Gorvell-Dahll / Lawrie Martin / Sandro Cavassa / Zak Abe)l

When She Cometh

All the world’s a stage…..

You are just dropped in to a dream, willy nilly, Act I: Scene 1, with cameras rolling.

I found myself in my childhood primary, middle and high school…all one building… in the day….at least for country folks….

I was standing in the hall, first floor, books in my arms, wearing a plaid skirt and  ban-lon twin sweater set, carrying school books.  I noticed the walls, the lockers, everything was painted a light grey green and my heart went out to the Janitor…I saw lots of scuff marks in his future.  The floors were highly polished, like ready for a new school year….but everything was eerily quiet, rather than the buzz of whisper, muffled laughter, movement of students…I was standing by the Gym door so could see through the glass door Entrance the teachers used that showed the street lights were on through the glass….it was night. What was I doing, at school, at night…by myself?

Shining floor, deserted hallways. Where do you go from here?
From Morguefile.com
IMG_2999.JPGBy ArielleJay

I turned my gaze to look across the hall. There I saw one of my older sisters, the Queen, in a slim navy skirt, long sleeved white blouse…looked like a uniform, talking to a dark brown haired male, who had his back to me.  It seemed like a general what-ya-doing-next-weekend conversation. They were both what I would call student age, also books in arms…like they fit the scenario.

When I turned my head, I saw my other three other sisters …they were no longer in their youth, definitely past student age, maybe their 30’s, all in colorful dresses…but their discussion felt like it was about me…I shoulda, coulda, woulda, the kind of talk sisters engage in that have no answers and no solutions…and they were all older than me…and they were all correct, I shoulda, coulda, woulda but I didn’t… so I was not interested in joining in the parsing…My Itty Bitty RIP Baby Sister would understand…She always had my back.

My 4 sisters and brother that disappeared before my unbelieving eyes….in their younger years.

I turned back to my sister, the Queen,  who was with the male student, called her name and they both turned…I then realized…it was my brother. Just as I took a step towards them, they transformed, before my eyes into air bubbles, and dissipated in to the hallowed halls…huh???

Okay, I’ll go talk to my other three sister, tell what I just experienced. Once again, 1st step forward, they turned to look at me,  then also transformed, before my eyes into air bubbles, and dissipated in to the hallowed halls.

I could hear, but not see, sneakers slapping the hallway floors, (nor  could I see the person wearing them), pounding past me,  as if his life depended on it.  I called out to him, the Unknown, ‘Did you see where my family went?’  He replied… ‘Right past you, in the Gym.’

All is calm, all is bright.

I had apparently reached the Twilight Zone…I could no longer believe what my eyes revealed.  Not convinced that I missed five family members, I never the less took the advice of the Unknown and went in to the gym…but it was empty…no one, nothing, nowhere, anywhere. I slowly turned round and round in circles…had I missed something… and there was a short fat Christmas tree covered in multi colored strings of lights, twinkling, casting rainbows on the garland, ropes and Christmas balls.

Could my family be teasing me, hiding under the tree…I mean, I am no engineer or magician, but how could 5 people hide under, in, through that tree?

Gamely I got on all fours and looked but saw no feet … instead I spied what looked be a three foot Clown Roly Poly weaving round and round as it made its way to the front of the tree. I instinctively put my hand under to haul out the Roly  Poly for a better look and in a flash I was grabbed firmly  with what seemed to be short flappy wings, hauling me under the tree, out of site… Gone.Baby.Gone. 

And for the first time since her passing, I heard  my Itty Bitty RIP Baby Sister’s voice…very firm…in charge…the boss…(like I had been to her), ‘Come on, Quite Contrary, we got to go,’ …’What…what about all of the rest of our siblings?’.  In the same voice  my Itty Bitty RIP Baby Sister replied… ‘It’s not their time yet.’  Over and Out. Buh Bye, World… Buh Bye. The End.

I’m awake.  Inevitable questions pop into my mind:

Where was RIP Daddy and my Mother-and-Father-God-Rest-Their-Souls….Were they giving the my Itty Bitty RIP Baby Sister Baby-of-the-Family bragging rights…first big catch since death-did-us-part?

Why our school setting…maybe because it is where we went to laugh, seek fairness, learn and gain understanding about the world around us.

Why Christmas?  You have to understand….   my Itty Bitty RIP Baby Sister loved all things Christmas.  The love, family, friends, food, joy ….the mystery of what was wrapped so prettily under the tree, all to be revealed in good time. Did the whole idea of a Christmas tree introduce the light I would ascend to …. that it would be no more frightening than a glowing Christmas tree, with gifts abounding like the amusing childlike Roly Poly….but hey folks, end of day…it’s just a dream…..

So sit back and enjoy the ride.    And Rule #1: You come when called… Now you see them…Now you don’t…. Over and Out. …And I was outta there. 

God is Good. God is Good

Oh Yeah

When I look in the mirror…. What do I see???? 

Looks like a Pussy Cat…. Staring back at me…….

The Magic of Mirrors
The Magic of Mirrors

And that’s what I learned when I looked…

Boom….Boom…. 

(Paraphrase Nursery Rhyme That’s What I Learned At My School)

Oh Baby, Our Love Goes On, Goes On

Jakiita sees all...feels all....
Jakita sees all…feels all….

So I saw Momma, when she thought I wasn’t watching…windexing RIP Daddy’s  humongous photo glass and frame…and she was grumbling at him…that he never comes around anymore…never whispers in her ear… like what’s with that….when did he get to step out of her dreams, whether she is awake or asleep? Who makes the rules, sets the timelines….tell us who?

Now Momma realizes when RIP Daddy first passed, he was worried that she would not be able to handle the mundane.  What Momma knew about furnaces, contractors, cars or house hold repairs could have been written on the inside of a thimble…a very small thimble…how to get her up to speed with him in Heaven and her still firmly tethered to Earth was a conundrum.

Momma supposes that once you get to Heaven you have so much time to separate from those you left behind before you get appointed your full-time Help the World Become A Better Place Position.  After all, there was more than Momma needed assistance….wasn’t she from the generation of ‘Bring Home the Bacon, Fry It Up in A Pan?’ No pain, no gain.  Up and at it.  No time for shrinking violets.

RIP Daddy did keep a close eye at first, bursting through with his knowledge and advice but then, over the years and tears, he noticed…..Momma had got the hang of it….somehow.  It took a lot of Prayers (and Googling) but she made steady, if questionable progress and so the time arrived for RIP Daddy to Let Go and Let God.

After all, RIP Daddy had a mission that only he could complete, said his personal Guardian Angels….which would never occur unless RIP Daddy accepted his present location ….recognized his Heavenly Assignment as he waited for Momma to complete her Journey and join him, In the Sky Lord, In the Sky.

Our Itty Bitty on the Earth Plane
Our Itty Bitty on the Earth Plane

Another reason for RIP Daddy to cut the cord was Itty Bitty… she always wanted to be first…to beat her older brother and sisters… and no one can argue…she won that round fair and square ….even though she was born to be the Baby of the Family and filled that position beyond expectations.

For so long Momma had visited Itty Bitty everyday, hopping on the bed with her – talking – laughing…now that Itty Bitty had taken her flight to her Greater Reward, it was important that even though she was still confused by the abruptness of it all, she must drop by…often…in Momma’s dreams…in thoughts…all day, all night …because, like RIP Daddy, although their passing was inevitable, it still came like a thief in the night…without time to assimilate…contemplate….and tell me how many dead people can  a sane person, (even Momma), entertain on the same day? 

RIP Daddy & Momma remember when....
RIP Daddy & Momma remember when….

Now I, Jakita know…the cats, especially Charlie knows….RIP Daddy actually drops by often but poor Momma hasn’t been blessed with the same awareness… The Two Footed only believe what they seeSucks to be them…the Four Footed can feel your presence as it permeates our existence….so we implore you RIP Daddy, come on down, make your presence known, give Momma what she wants. Get with the program. Multi-task. Make her believe:

♥♥♥Oh Baby, our goes on…goes on….♥♥♥♥         ♥♥Happy Valentines Day♥♥♥

If You Believe There’s A Man in the Moon

A long time ago…when the earth was green and there were more kinda’ animals than you’ve ever seen…Momma told me a storypart fact, part fiction and maybe, just maybe, part fibbing.

The-Man-Behind-the-Moon in his humble Third Concession home.
The-Man-Behind-the-Moon in his humble Third Concession home.    Fr: Morguefile                 By: Jober788

It seems when Momma and her Sister-Who-Taught-Her-Most-the-Things-She-Knows were playing in the forest one day, they met up with an old man, wearing an indescribable plaid shirt, flood pants held in place with ratty old suspenders, a bulging gunny sack slung over his back. He did not look left or right but trudged forward, a stoop in his back from the weight he was hoisting.

Now Momma and her Sister-Who-Taught-Her-Most-the-Things-She-Knows recognized everyone in Seven Counties so they raced home to ask their Mama (who we’ll refer to as Grandmama) whoever could it be.  Grandmama explained it was The Hermit who lived way back on the Third Concession, who only came out once a year in the summer to get supplies like sugar, flower, tea and coffee…other than that The Hermit lived off the land, fished from the streams, hunted for meat…like wow…people actually still did that?

Just their luck, their Papa (who we’ll refer to as Grandpapa) walked in as Grandmama was telling Momma and her Sister-Who-Taught-Her-Most-the-Things-She-Knows the Truth, the Whole Truth and Nothing But the Truth….that is when the Secret was revealed…time those girls learned so they could pass it on to their kids and so on and so on… till death do us part. 

Feature Moon Beams MAjor TomGrandpapa explained, yes, you saw The Hermit….but…he is also The-Man-Behind-the-Moon.  It is his job to take a pitchfork, a mega-long, long pitch fork and put the moon up in the sky every night and take it down every morning…and The-Man-Behind-the-Moon was eternal, not like Dracula drinking helpless victim’s blood, but being kept alive all these years by moon beams (not moonshine, moonbeams). No death and resurrection for The-Man-Behind-the-MoonHe was, He Is and Ever Will Be!

Sweet Baby Jesus
Sweet Baby Jesus

Momma and her Sister-Who-Taught-Her-Most-the-Things-She-Knows looked at each other, then Grandmama, then Grandpapa.  By now you know, Country Folk are Believers…they Believe in God Almighty, Sweet Baby Jesus, Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, Wee Fairies and Gnomes in their garden… and in no particular order.   Yeah, Country Folk Believe in everything….well, accept Donald Trump.  Only Right Wing Republicans Believe  in Trump… sometimes, most of the times.

Many a season has come and gone. Momma and her Sister-Who-Taught-Her-Most-the-Things-She-Knows have had children that had children and they still have not heard of the death of The Hermit, AKA (also known as) The-Man-Behind-the-Moon  and in small towns, well, they have match box coffins and funerals for even the country mice…..give them a proper send off…which leads them to Believe (there’s that word again), Grandpapa was maybe on to something…

Grandmama (in the middle) with her World Class Poker Face.
Grandmama (in the middle) with her World Class Poker Face.  Fr: Morguefile By: Clarita

Not like Grandmama would give him up…she was no Conspiracy Theorist but she sure had the Best. Ever straight face of a World-Class Poker Player.

So what do you think? Any guesses???

 

 

PS: Scientists need not reply.