Brownstonelit's Blog

9/28/11

I am almost
reticent to write, but feel compelled to share. Yesterday I was working on schedules when I realized I had missed Charley’s Birthday. Upset with myself, I made a mental note to correct the offense and wished him a Happy Belated. I noted the hour.  Ten minutes later, my cell rang.

Now almost twenty four hours ago I
got a call from R who had much to say. On some very deep level I am still both
profoundly touched and profoundly… what would the word be? Humbled? Honored?
Overwhelmed beyond recent comprehensions?

Her message
opened with her seeking closure for me… answers for the consistent questions I
barrage her with to nail things down. As always, the direct questioning goes by the way side for
what they feel is far more significant and poignant. She tells me Charley
appears with his hands open, holding white doves inside them. This is a sign…
closure is coming. He smiles.

She says
Jessica is there. Like in the movies, you can see the gauzy ethereal film that
represents the life force- the soul being released from her remains. She is
moving on to the next level of her evolution… continuing the process… her
release.

She tells me
Roxanne displays much the same as she begins to emerge from the water that has
contained her for over 46 years now. She stops mid-step in her travels long
enough to let R know that she looks upon me as a mother… a caregiver who has
helped her be able to move on and attain release.  I am so deeply moved by this that tears begin
to dot the crest of my cheeks. I am not ready… I am not ready.

I am torn by
conflicting emotions. Happy for their hard earned progressions I know that this
signifies the first of many separations and I am loathe to watch them go. It is
selfish and criminal, but I am all but spent on departures. In my heart I know
they must move on- that this is what this has all been about- their chance to
find peace with their endings. I whisper something inaudible under my tears- my
grief is palpable. “Don’t leave me…don’t leave me…I cannot survive the loss
of anyone else.”

In a
heartbeat I experience the death of each parent again and I am cast into
inconsolable sorrow. R continues to tell me that we; Charley, Jessica, Roxanne
and even the MOT are bound to one another forever… but I know it can never be the same. It is like letting go of a tiny hand and watching as  the last child walks bravely  into school for the first
day…high school…college next and then finally into the arms of someone who will carry
them through their forever and I am but reduced to background and white noise
in their lives.

I am not ready to be separated…to be apart from them, from this fragile
life and mission I have constructed for myself in the wake of so much personal
devastation. It is all I have to keep me glued together when I am overcome by
trials that seem to multiply in the dark of night.

I think of
Charley and his white doves and know that in some small way, his release is release for me as
well. Together we have fought demons; both personal and metaphorical. I smile
and ask him to set one free for me.

Something
big is happening, R says. The end of October… something is coming. The doves
signify closure- release.

She gives me
two more names; Samson (a nick name for someone) and Rodriguez. I write them
down and make immediate segue to one.

Then Charley
takes her to the scene of the crime that night. Grim is there. Charley is
fixated on an personal article of his attire- it is torn. It is still torn. For
years he wears this as his badge of courage- a joke to those who know how it
happened. Now I know how it happened to. If you’re reading this Grim and I hope
you are…___________ _________.

Miss M has
stepped to the plate. M tries to speak and her deceased husband tries to pull
her back. He wants her to remain silent – keep her yap shut. R tells him to let
her speak and he finally releases M to say her peace.

M shows R
the lighter… silver… engraved. At first R thought it was something else- a
silver pocket knife or a silver trinket of some sort- but Miss M makes it
clear. It is the lighter! The lighter on Charley’s pawn ticket from Morris Pawn
Shop. The lighter his supervisor was badgering Hazel about. The lighter that
everyone knows is key to solving who was there the night Jessica and Roxanne
were murdered! The lighter that has plagued me for over two and a half years.
The lighter belonged to her husband’s best friend- the third in my four in
flannel. Miss M’s husband is angry she has betrayed his confidence, but M
understands Karma. She understands that the truth must be told.

The lighter
belongs to the image she uses for this man…‘Albert Einstein.’ I am caught off
guard, but grateful.

They
continue:

…the boy,
the boy…. the taller of the two… he knows… the boy; he knows more than he
is telling…the lunch box… what was in the lunch box… the farmer… the
farmer…

October 29^th…October
29^th… something is happening… something is building…

Closure.

It is
coming… the time to move on… to finish this and move on to the next.

In the midst
of all this, my mother comes through.

R giggles
and asks, “Do you understand the purple drink?” My tears make way for sudden
and raucous laughter. I explain to R the story of my childhood and a package of
grape Koolaid that played an important part in one of my youthful adventures.
She laughs just as hard and I know that my mother has lightened my pain by her
warped and predictable humor. I will not share my specific humiliation with you
here, but will in the book at a later date.

It has been enough for today that I
have received information from my dear friend Miss M, been remembered by my
mother, and cherished by a young woman with long blonde hair who suffered untold
pain, who could have been a child of my own. I have been blessed and honored to
share the progressions of souls who have suffered long the injustices of others
and at the least… been invited to share another poignant moment with my
friend, mentor and guardian angel…Charles Gordon Covington.

This entry was posted on September 28, 2011 at 1:14 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.