randomness...feed your mind and your blog
This week's questions are book related....
1. Who are your favorite authors? Dean Koontz, Stephen King, Amy Tan, and Diana Gabaldon
2. What are your favorite books? To Kill A Mockingbird, A Tree Grows In Brooklyn, The Stand, Odd Thomas, Outlander
3. What kind of books do you tend to read? Sci-fi, Romance, Mystery...etc...? Usually historical fiction or horror
4. Do you prefer to borrow books from the library or buy them? I'd rather buy them and then I can take my time reading them
5. Do you prefer hardcover or paperback? Trade paperbacks
6. What was the last book you read? What are you reading now? I last read Empress Orchid and now I am reading Train Go Sorry
7. Do you read everyday? Yes
8. On average how many books do you read per year? 26
9. Do you belong to any book clubs? Just about all of them. My favorite is Quality Paperback Books
10. Recommend a good book.
I thought Empress Orchid was a good book!
I say...and you think...
- Goodbye :: Hello
- Cage :: Bird
- Buddy :: Pal
- Magic words :: Please
- Library :: Books
- Fall in love :: Romance
- Tense :: Stressed
- Work! :: Play!
- Empty :: Full
- Heat wave :: It's like a
When I was about 8 years old, we went one summer day to Fire Island with my grandma...and she broke her leg. All the rest of the summer, my mother took care of her. She would leave us on Monday, stay at Grandma's until Friday and then come home for the weekend. My aunt, Mom's sister, took her turn on the weekend. Why they didn't split the week more evenly is a mystery to me but not really a part of this story.
One night Mom woke up with a feeling of dread. She was sleeping on the couch in the living room and from there, she could see into the kitchen and out one of the windows. She saw a light approaching the house through the window and her dread grew. The light came closer and closer and then came through the window, moving through the kitchen and into the living room toward my mother.
Mom said she felt paralyzed. She wanted to scream or jump up and run but she just couldn't. All of a sudden the light turned into the disembodied hand, arm and shoulder of a man wearing a flannel shirt. The hand was closed in a fist, in a threatening way, and it moved more rapidly.
Mom said she felt something explode out of her chest and move to fight the threatening arm. She thought it was her soul. The arm disappeared and Mom could move again. She told everyone all about it the next day but, of course, no one believed her. They all said it was a dream.
I never would have known about it except that she tried to write a letter about it to Jeanne Dixon, the psychic, a few years later--after we'd lost our house on Long Island and were living in Baltimore. I had to ask her about it and she told me about the curse she believed was on the family.
The arm brought the curse and her soul tried to fight it, she explained. She wasn't strong enough, though, and from now on, our family would be haunted by bad things. I believed her! I was less than 12 years old and look at all the bad things that happened to us already: we'd had to move, one grandmother (my father's mother) died, a grandfather (my mother's father) died, my favorite uncle died, we lost our house and our touchstone back to New York, my brother and I were being tormented by the neighborhood kids....the list went on and on.
The years went by and we continued to suffer life's ups and downs. I don't think they were any worse than what other people suffer but on top of all that, my parents were drinking and fighting violently. It seemed they couldn't live with each other and they couldn't live without each other.
Eventually, my brother and I grew up and left home as quickly as we could. I got married and started off happily with my new husband. We had a new car, a new baby and we felt we were making a great start in the world--and then my husband suffered congestive heart failure at age 27 and needed emergency surgery.
"It's the curse," Mom signed to me. "Nothing good will come of us."
I was not interested in curses and hoped to put her off. Why did she think we were cursed anyway? God had no reason to be mad at us and unless she knew something I didn't, someone else hadn't set a curse on us.
"It's your father," she explained. "He did this because he doesn't believe in God."
That was ridiculous.
She told me, "The arm that came toward me that night? I recognized the shirt. It was your father's arm, your father's shirt and he has brought this evil down on all of us."
Superstiticious drivel, right?
Sometimes, though, a primitive part of my brain takes hold lately and whispers to my logical, reasoning side: Look at what happened to Rich. Look at what happened to TB. They were both fine until you got married and then see what happened. And look what's happening to you now.
It gives me the heebie jeebies. I tell myself there IS no curse. God is there and He will provide help and comfort.
But I can't make my primitive brain shut up.
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2 comments:
This was an interesting story Irishcoda. I have to say I do not believe in curses. All families have and do suffer great losses and what seems to be a curse on their lives. I think your logical brain is correct and God will take care of you if you believe in Him.
That primitive brain is really hard to shut up. It's always there, spouting drivel and casting gloom all around. I really hope things go better for you. I enjoyed reading your memes. We like some of the same kinds of books.
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