Visitations

 It was a busy day at Lowe's garden department. The employees complained that too many plants had been delivered, and it was hard to keep them all watered. Customers were just filled with the hope of Spring and happy to see the abundance of flowers and bushes, even if there wasn't a sale. I had chosen a beautiful white rose, that I couldn't resist, with lots of promising looking buds on it. It even attracted the comments of other shoppers I passed, as if it was a cute baby riding in my cart.

I took my place in the long checkout line, and watched, as an older woman came through the doors from the patio pushing a flatbed cart with things she had chosen. Gosh, I thought, she looks so much like Helen, my mother-in-law who passed away in 1999. Her white, naturally curly, short hair and colorful clothes brought back memories of "Tutu", and made me feel good. 

Then, "Oh!", my heel had been run into by a cart behind me.....and there she was!!

"Oh my goodness! Did I hurt you?"

"It's not bad. Don't worry." She had made a quick u-turn to get into line behind me.

"You know", I said, "I'm glad to be able to talk to you, because when you came in the door, you reminded me of my mother-in-law. I haven't seen her for a long time."

"Oh my! I hope that is a Good thing!" she said with a little wink.

"It definitely is. We were great friends. I've even been wearing her wedding band on my finger for the last couple of weeks. It's made me feel closer to her."

We chatted about the flowers we bought and how busy it was, and I noticed her nice wrinkly Irish face, and her sparkling blue eyes. Hi Tutu, I thought. As I left, I told her how nice it was to meet her, and almost asked for her name. Then I thought better of it. It would have been too weird if it had been Helen.

I'm remembering another time I "saw" Helen. I was shopping at a Long's Drugs, looking for the perfect shampoo. A lady near me started chatting with me about which one to choose, there were so many types. Once again, the curly white hair and familiar face and attitude. I said, "My goodness, you certainly look a lot like my mother-in-law!"

She said, "All my life people have said I reminded them of Janet Gaynor. You probably don't know who she was."

"Actually I do! My Helen always said she was mistaken for that actress, since they were about the same age when she became popular in the movies in the 30's. Now I can see why there's such a resemblance! Thanks for talking to me first, it's exactly what Helen would have done. She was always so friendly to strangers."

This has happened to me at other times. Years ago in a church where my family attended. My husband, with teary eyes, elbowed me as he watched someone coming down the aisle. I looked and sure enough, a salty haired man who was identical to Wally, my father-in-law, took the seat a couple of pews ahead of us. Wally had passed away a few years before. Every so often we'd see the man again, never having a conversation, but aways nodding at each other and remembering.

One other time, when I worked as a waitress at a Baker's Square, a woman came in for lunch who reminded me of my Grandma Diddo. Talking to her, her voice sounded so familiar, even with the little chuckle I recall. I confessed to her what I was thinking, and she thought it was nice. After that she always asked to sit in my section, and sometimes I'd even say, "Bye Diddo" as she left. She'd smile.

What does all this mean? Probably nothing. They were all just what I call a visitation, a surprising little gift from God. I've heard that when a hummingbird comes and flutters near your face, it's called a visitation. This may be something a little bit more. My little visits bring back fond memories of loved ones, and make me think that perhaps they want me to still be thinking about them, and praying for them.

Helen "Tutu" and me

Wally Romer with baby Walt

In The Kitchen

We've lived in this old house for 33 years, and have been emptying it out, getting it ready to rent. The kitchen is one of the last rooms to evacuate, since we've still been cooking in it, but today is the day to empty the cupboards of food and pans, but for me, the memories are still there.
There are three of us working in the kitchen. My husband is changing the funky old knobs to cute chrome ones shaped like a cup and saucer and a teapot.

A friend is emptying out the cupboards so he can clean them, and putting the contents around the kitchen for me to sort through. I call my job "search and destroy", but it's not true. For each item, I have to decide if I want to keep it, (does it give me joy?)...... does someone else want or need it?..... Should I put it out in the changing pile of "leavings" that we've left by the curb for passers by to take?..... Can it be recycled?..... or, is it truly garbage?

The hardest part of this sorting for me, is to also consider if the item suits our mobile home in Palm Springs, or the condo at Lake Tahoe, or could we use it in the little "in-law" we're making for ourselves downstairs. Our kitchen there, will consist of a microwave, a crockpot, a coffee maker, a George Foreman Grill and an electric pot to heat tea water......no place for pots or pans. Storage is at a premium, so I have to be brutal, but if I have fond memories of an antique cookie sheet or muffin tin, I'll bring them to Palm Springs to replace things that were already in the kitchen when we bought the place. Things for entertaining go there too, since there are always a lot of pot lucks.

It must look as if I'm moving in slow motion, to my co-workers in the kitchen. I see the clutter on the counter of bowls and utensils and half used cleaning products growing, it's upsetting to me that I can't seem to keep up with the flow. My brain, in the meantime, keeps playing movies of times past. As I get out the muffin tins from a corner of the cupboards, I fondly remember the "apartment" that Tigger, our orange tabby had made in there. We found that he opened the cupboard door with his paw, crawled in and didn't come out. Turns out, he could see the side of the drawer that had dishtowels in it, and he reached into the drawer, and pulled out a few towels with his claw to make himself a nice little nest in the cupboard. I discovered his lair one time when I was suspiciously low on dishtowels. He watched as I cleaned it out, and in a few days, he had refurnished it.
Another time, I caught Tigger rubbing up against Tessa, our dog, and ending up with his head in Tessa's gentle open mouth!

The soon-to-be-replaced kitchen sink brings back a vision of a favorite photo of my kids, Jennie, 5, and Lucas 1-1/2, way back when, standing on chairs, "doing dishes". Lucas especially concentrated on the Tupperware cups that were unbreakable. Both of them had vintage child's aprons on, and Jennie's hair cascaded down to her waist. This has always been one of my favorite photos, and it has been the problem with getting this story done. It has gotten temporarily lost in this huge shuffle we're in the midst of, but when I find it I'll add it in. I promise.
The kitchen sink was also captured when someone got a picture of Polly, our cherry headed conure (one of our menagerie) perched on my back as I washed my hair.

This reminds me of more animal activity in the kitchen, which, when I think about it, was pretty common.

A few cocktail glasses appeared on the counter. Some were Christmas glasses with poinsettias on them, that would probably be sent to Goodwill.....but others were etched glass, ones that had been brought over from Hawaii, when Helen "Tutu" and Wally, "Grandpa" came over on the Lurlene, a cruise ship that brought my kid's Dad, Walt, at 3 years old, laiden with leis, to the mainland.

 I remember in 1998.. ., Wally was gone, Helen lived with me, and when I came home from a days work at Kaiser, I'd find her sitting in the old rocking chair in my kitchen, decked out in a nice Muu-Muu with matching nail polish, and sometimes a silk lei. While I jumped right in to cooking dinner, still in my scrubs, I told her what happened at work that day. She told me what happened at the house, and we had cocktails. We made up our own, one time calling a tequila and apple juice drink a "Juanie Appleseed". Good times.

There were so many other memorable things that happened in this old kitchen. Lucas shot magnetic darts past my back onto a target on the refrigerator as I did the dishes when he was 5, and Jennie practiced her shuffle-ball-change on the linoleum when she was seven. I truly hope that the new family that moves into this home has as many wonderful, wholesome memories in this kitchen and in all the other rooms. God bless them.