Dear Nanny...Feel

4/2 - Feel

Dear Nanny -

I don’t think that you have reincarnated yet; I think that you are existing in ‘Spiritland’ (as Jimi Hendrix referred to it), and you are waiting there for Seneca, a.k.a. my poppa, and your husband of 50 + years. He was a restless soul on earth, so I would imagine that after he passed he couldn’t simply kick back and enjoy the solace, especially when he learned that you had another ten or so years left to live on earth.

I don’t particularly know how the time contingent differs between the two worlds, but it must; I guess that we will never know until we pass on. With his quick wit, penchant for biting sarcasm, and fast hand he probably wanted to jump right into another life, but I wonder what the earth name of his body is now? Or is it possible that he reincarnated into a monkey of some sort? He always loved monkeys; I don’t know how that works.

Perhaps I was a dolphin in one of my past lives, and that explains my passion for the ocean, but my irksome fear of sharks. They are natural enemies you know. Whenever I see a school of dolphins, I can rest assure that there are no sharks lurking in the vicinity; dolphins are the protectors and use their bottlenoses to head-but the sharks noses, the most sensitive part of their sleek and creepy physique, in order to send them away.

I’ve been told that if I am ever encountered by a shark while swimming or surfing, etc., to hit it as hard as I can in the nose; because they have terrible eyesight, and their sense of smell and direction are somehow connected in that region. If you bonk them on the nose, it messes up their sense of direction and they swim off. Step two ...swim like hell to shore, and don’t reconsider venturing back into the water for a long time; Mr. or Mrs. Sharky will be out for revenge -at least that’s what I think.

Anyway Nan, I think that you are waiting on the spirit plane for Seneca, because even souls miss one another. My mom is sad lately, and missing you terribly. Yesterday she confessed that she drove by you and poppa’s old house yesterday for comfort; she just felt like she needed to, but it only seemed to make her feel more lost; between closing her business, my mental breakdown, really high property taxes, unsold real estate, and ghosts lingering in her tired mind, she’s in a fog, worse than a lithium fog. It’s dark, and she has no hope for relief. It’s like she’s grabbing at the brass ring on the carousel, just about reaches it every time, grazes it with her tired fingers, and falls. I feel for her; her depression manifests itself as anxiety, which leads to insomnia. She hasn’t slept properly in nights; I introduced her to sleeping pills, but she has much more sense than I do, and is afraid to become addicted to their seamless effect.

So I asked her if she dreams, and she said that she never remembers her dreams, which is a sure fire way to tell that she is not reaching a REM state of sleep; the dream state. But then she told me that she has dreamed about you, Nan. She said she misses you deeply, and her crystal green/blue eyes ached with a profound, childlike sadness that can only be shown by the post-crying face of a little kid who wants her/his mommy. I suggested that she talk to you, pray to you, and ask for your guidance through dreams. I told her that I didn’t think that you had reincarnated yet, and my mother didn’t even flinch. She believed me.

She said that one evening, years after poppa had died, that she was sitting in the bright light of your kitchen, at the round oak table that
I love and use now, and she attempted to discuss selling the house with you. She asked you why you wouldn’t sell it, and you began to cry and said, “What if your father comes home ...I want to be here for him.”

I think that you knew something that others didn’t, Nan ...either that or you had some unresolved issues with Poppa when he died. Is that why I still feel your presence? Are you waiting for Seneca to come home to reconcile things with a kiss? He’ll come home Nanny, I just hope that wherever you are, sad hours don’t seem long.

And please tell me that this horrible affliction that we share does not continue in the afterlife? I hope not for your sake, Nan. I hope that you visit mom in her dreams. She needs you – Love, Ana