Strange Days - is it Real or is it Memorlapse?

Strange Days. We all have them. Within the recent triad of months I have lost three pieces of jewelry. The first to disappear is a 22kt ring that sat amidst other jewelry atop a shelf located in my bedroom. This gold ring holds a lot of significance and is a sibling to two other 22 Kt. gold rings. In addition this particular ring has received spiritual blessings from a Tibetan Buddhist Monk whom has since transcended, a Hindu Pujari, a Voudon, Catholic Priest and many others. Although a ring is a ring is a ring this little bit of history lends it a mysterious ambiance and held joyous and peaceful memories of people and places. This ring has traveled with me for many years; beautiful in its unadorned elegance and bright natural color it is intricately formed into a stylized top view of a lotus.

Previously I have never misplaced this piece of jewelry and it was always put in the same place.

                                              

The day it disappeared 2 unrelated acquaintances that I do not quite trust entered my bedroom at different times for a brief period as I used the pc in my bedroom regarding a matter. This occurred at two different times and both followed me without being asked to. As I began to use the computer each had actually begun to root through my jewelry exploring at the area of the 22 Kt. Gold rings sans permission. Most of the jewelry is more unusual than expensive so while I can understand the appeal to treat it like a living room curio, still does not excuse the audacity of touching my private things. I transcended the lack of manners and asked each to politely not touch my belongings. Each started their brief exploration at the area of the 22 Kt. gold rings. I had since searched my room during a spring cleaning and it is nowhere to be seen.

Gone, baby gone.

But maybe it will turn up.

With the second disappearance I was not even aware the item was missing until it showed up in the most unlikely of places. This item is a pair of sterling silver .925, red coral and turquoise chandelier earrings that are my original design and craftsmanship. Last time I wore them was when I was on a trip to Texas at the end of March 2012. The last day I remember seeing them was when I unpacked and hung them on an earring rack on that same shelf already mentioned. A few days shy of three months since they have crossed my thoughts, they were laying neatly atop a box of stuff for Good Will that I had put on the landing not 30 minutes before. I hadn’t been drinking, hadn’t taken any drugs – illicit or prescribed and had actually been having a good day of clarity, purpose and accomplishment.

A reality, so fleeting – is it real or is it Memorlapse?

The third disappearance occurred in front of my own eyes. Yesterday I was straightening up my earrings when one of my only pair of platinum earrings fell – but never appeared to land. The light beige carpet was just vacuumed and a shiny platinum charm earring would have stood out. I got down on my hands and knees and searched a wide perimeter, wider than physically possible. I combed my fingers through the pile without success but with absolute denial that it could have disappeared in front of my eyes! This motivated me further and I decided to remove and put back everything on the shelves below where the earring fell. Still the earring remained elusive and it was nowhere to be found. My ‘c'est la vie’ defense mechanism kicked in and I finished dusting and vacuuming other areas of the bedroom, including the area around my bed and my night table, waxing it as well.

That night I settled into bed and glance over at my night table and sitting there just glittering at me, mocking me, was that prodigal earring!

I swear it’s those damn faeries, now if they would just return that 22 Kt. Gold ring. …

J. Aquila © 22June2012

Memoranda Deorum

Memoranda Deorum

Open Thine Eyes

The wind whispered.

Or was it voice human.

A tear from Her Eye fell.

Sky wept.

Hush, said She, listen.

Forgotten, said He.

Aeolus' message louder ring.

Listen, O' Mother, said He.

I hear, O' Father!

Immortal Children! Hear!

Reverent, voices rise!

Of those who remember!

Arise, by whatever name

Thou are called!

Old tales told

Voices plea to Gods.

Listen, listen, said He!

Peacock to remind sent

By Regina's hand.

Heaven's tears stayed

By Diespiter might.

Perfume, oxen, lamb et wine

Brought to altars

Gods for boons

Vows of promise upon receipt

In sacrifice and feast

O’ Immortals, by whatever name

Thou are called

Forgotten you shall never be!

21Apr2012©Aquila

The Day My Son Went Missing

The revival of the search for Etan Patz’s body and his murderer has brought back so many emotions I thought, hoped, I would never feel again. This little boy, just six years old, disappeared on his way to school May 26^th 1979. Etan’s photo preserves that wonderful look of guileless wonder and expectation bright young boys of that age have, still innocent – at the far edge of babyhood when they are moving towards independence to embrace the world. Fearlessly expecting the world to embrace them back with good intentions. Like a photo of my own son who in the summer of 1979 went missing.

There are memories of that day that will forever be with me, always.

It was a Saturday, no school, we had had a busy fun morning outside in the beautiful weather. The darling boys, my 3 y/o toddler Travis and 6 y/o Jason were tuckered out and both had to be carried sleeping from the car into the house and tucked in their beds. I took advantage of the time and hoped for two hours to catch up on some cleaning and opened all the windows and doors for a good airing out. We had locks on our screen doors and screens as my little one was a climber. I was folding freshly laundered clothing and had silently gone in the boys’ room to put the clothing in their chest of drawers and to check on them. They were both soundly sleeping. I stopped for a moment and gazed at them. To me they were the most beautiful beings I had ever seen; both were charming in their own ways. My Travis’ his straight mahogany hair sticking up this way and that as he slept, his dare devil attitude and mischievousness written on the small smile he wore in his sleep. Jason’s blond curls fell onto his face, which also bore a small smile as he dreamed. Two angelic beings – just as all young children appear in their sleep. Just as a sleeping Etan Patz was looked upon by his own parents.

But my thoughts were far from Etan Patz, even though it was still mentioned frequently: occurring only a couple of months ago. My thoughts were on putting away the cleaning supplies and picking up anything I may have missed – I knew by looking at my sleeping children I was lucky if I had 15 minutes before they awoke. No more than five minutes had passed when I had reentered the bedroom to put one of Travis’ stuffed toys in his toy chest. Travis was fast asleep, he had worn himself out; he had fallen back into a deep sleep.

Jason was gone.   

                                                                                                  

Unconcerned at first I called for him quietly so I would not disturb Travis and thought he had either gone into the bathroom or to the kitchen. He was nowhere to be found in the house. Nowhere. I searched outside calling frantically! I called the police. Jason had been a favorite of the neighbors and they were all out in force looking, my mother arrived and took Travis from my hesitant arms, within five minutes there were police cars and detectives, policeman on foot, in cars, questions, interviewing neighbors and the construction worker paving the far end of the street, photos – all this occurring as I somehow managed to exist through the utter anguish that contorted my very core, an anguish and fear I will never ever be able to convey in words. No one saw my little boy. No one saw my beloved firstborn. The thoughts that went through my head, so horrid, so terrible as my mind incorporated strong defense mechanisms so I would not fall apart. Tears fell silently from time to time; I had to gain control to keep clear. My precious boy needed me. Where was he? Who would take him? Jason never wandered off before but I remembered how proud and excited he was to walk to school all by himself. I was disconcerted and not wholly on board at first but the school was encouraging parents to allow children in the immediate vicinity to walk to school to cut down on traffic at the Long Island, N.Y. school. It was a 2 ½ block straight shot from the corner of our lane to the school so I could stand and watch him and be there waiting for him. We had walked the route many times to explore a small one acre preserved wooded area where the boys could also climb huge rocks.  Further on down by the school was a park with slides, swings, sandbox and other great playground equipment.  In those days, we walked everywhere. The “village” began at the far end of our block, we simply made a right and there were two long blocks of all kinds of shopping. Jason knew that route as well. He knew the butcher, the pharmacist, the ladies at the “five and ten,” the librarian, the grocers and many of the little shops – even my physician. All were searched, all were being searched. People and Police alike were trying to appear calm but Etan Patz disappearance was too fresh. The similarities between the two boys physical description was too close. Their worried looks intensified my fears.

It was just an hour that had gone by but it felt like an eternity! At that point I heard cheerful relieved voices! He was found up the block at the wooded preserve: he had finished collecting various leaves, bugs, pebbles and was sitting on a rock singing Sesame Street songs.

When I saw him coming down the lane, my precious child smiling, one little hand in the tall policeman’s, the other holding his plastic Oscar the Grouch bucket full of his treasures and wearing the policeman’s huge hat, the world got brighter, I got lighter, I could feel the blood rush into face and I ran to him and gathered him in my arms.

He was not expecting all the policemen, police cars, detectives and neighbors. His lushly lashed eyes went from fun and excitement to a worried confusion that mostly disappeared when he espied grandma holding my beloved Travis and his whole face was alight! I held him tightly against me and told him I loved him.

He turned that beautiful face to me, his huge bright water blue eyes full of discovery, his momentary confusion dissolved and with a dazzling smile Jason declared:

“Mommy I can feel your heart!”

“You are my heart” I choked out.

23Apr2012©Aquila