April 27, 2016

Dead Daddy is Back

My mother worked two jobs for many years and was growing very tired.  As soon as she felt that my sister and I were old enough to get part time jobs, she told us we needed to help pay bills so she could cut back on her night time job as a cleaning woman.

Grace found a part time job as a waitress and I found a job as a concession girl at a theatre.  Even though mother thought I was old enough to work, I was two years under the legal age to work.  Even though I had a feeling the manager knew I was lying about my age, he gave me the job.

When my mother began cutting back on the hours she worked she decided to relax more by going for long walks at night and asking if she could come see movies at the theatre where I worked.

A new movie had been released, a romantic drama set in World War II, which my mother wanted to see.  Being an employee of the theatre, I and any family members could see movies whenever we wanted for free, which made mother very happy because she loved watching movies.

She always came to see the last showing of a movie so we could ride the bus home together.  I wish I could say these were pleasant mother and daughter times together, except we never really talked about anything.  She would either fall asleep on the ride home or if she loved a movie she had seen, she talked about the movie and actors the entire ride home.

Winter had just begun its grip on the city and there had been a mixture of snow and rain earlier in the day which had caused icy patches on the sidewalks.  When we arrived at the bus stop near our home I told mother to be careful because it was very slippery.  I wasn't too surprised when she fell a few minutes later because she hadn't worn her boots.

She fell directly onto her knees and when she stood up I saw tears running down her cheeks.  I told her to be very careful and I would help clean her knees when we got home.  I tried to hold onto her arm but she kept stopping and looking behind her.  She was acting strange and it was beginning to scare me a little.  I didn't know what she kept looking back at.  It was very late and the streets were empty.  We were the only two people on the sidewalk.

Because she kept looking back and wasn't being as careful as she should have been, she fell again.  This time she wouldn't let me help her up.  She pushed me away as she turned around and screamed at the empty street to stop pushing her.  I felt fear wash over me as I tried to ask her who she was talking to.  When she turned to look at me I instinctually took a couple of steps back because she looked furious.

When she told me father was pushing her and made her fall I felt confused.  I looked around the empty street.  In a soft voice I reminded mother that father had died several years ago.  She turned toward me with the same venomous voice she used when she was disgusted with me and told me father was standing right before us.  I didn't see him.  She went on to say that she wasn't going to allow an evil man like my father and his evil daughter drive her insane.  I kept looking around and had no idea what she was talking about.  Father was dead.  He couldn't have pushed her. 

When we got home she told Grace what had happened.  My confusion and shock was intensified when Grace told mother that she believed her.  Grace reminded mother that father was so evil she didn't doubt that he could come back as a ghost and haunt and hurt us.  I felt like I had entered a parallel universe where insanity ruled the day.

I couldn't sleep that night.  I had nightmares of father rising up from the flames of hell to haunt us.  Since both my mother and Grace believed that it was possible, I found myself wondering if maybe I was wrong.  Mother and Grace were older and knew more than me, so maybe it was possible for father to return as a ghost to keep hurting us.

I didn't know what to believe, so I decided that since it was possible that I was wrong, I should be more cautious when I walked down the streets.  For weeks when I came home from work I expected to feel my father's ghost push me.  It never happened.

Since mother often talked to empty space or a chair, I began to wonder if maybe she was able to communicate with the other side.  Maybe she was talking to ghosts that only allowed mother to see them.

I thought it would help if I spoke to Peter about what had happened, but for the first time, trying to get help from Peter didn't help.  While Peter didn't believe that our father had pushed mother to make her fall, Peter did believe in ghosts.  He also believed that maybe something was wrong with our mother, but he had no idea what it could be.

Peter had begun practicing white magic and believed that he could use magic to change things in his life.  It hadn't occurred to me that Peter was hurting emotionally or mentally from the abuse he endured from our father.  I think it would have been too much for me to think that the one person I could look to for normalcy was not completely normal either.  I did begin having doubts when he told me using candles and chants could make good things happen.

In my early twenties, even though I had doubts, I went to an alchemy store and purchased things I would need to try white magic spells to find love and to be happy.  I figured I had nothing to lose.  If Peter was right, then it would be awesome to fix all my problems with a few candles and chanting a few simple spells.  The spells didn't work, but I did learn an important lesson about positive thinking and energy.

Between my mother claiming that she saw our father's ghost and Peter talking about magic and conjuring spirits, I became overly sensitive to my surroundings.  I didn't know what was possible and what wasn't.

For many years whenever I got a new apartment I would be scared that it was haunted or evil.  I was worried that the evil mother kept saying was in me would cause evil spirits to follow me.  Whenever I was alone and heard creaks or bumps I immediately worried that it was a ghost or evil spirit instead of normal building settling sounds.

I was scared of getting hurt by people and now I was scared of dead people hurting me too.

My brother was a very positive person, and while he always talked about positive energy, I never really understood what he was trying to teach me.  While his little jaunt with white magic was a negative in his life, it did make me more curious about energy.

When attempting candle magic myself, I learned that you had to intensely focus your energy on the one thing you wanted to materialize in your life.  I was instructed to visualize what I desired as I rubbed a candle with oil, thereby transferring the energy of my thoughts into the candle, so that when I lit the candle it would transfer the energy of my thoughts into the universe and help bring into my life that which I had visualized.

I became more curious about energy and began going to the library and discovered physics and many books on physics and God.  I read a lot of books on positive energy and visualization.

When I went to Church I became more aware of the rituals of the Catholic Church, such as the candle burning, the incense, the chanting.  It all seemed oddly similar to the rituals called upon in white magic.

I began to understand what my brother had always been trying to teach me.  God was energy.  God was the purest form of positive energy, and I was a part of that energy.  I also began to understand that where there was positive energy, there would be negative energy.

I understood for the first time in my life that energy pulls from our thoughts.  If I focused on the negatives in my life, then negative energy would pull me.  If I concentrated on the positives in my life, then positive energy would pull me.  I decided that I didn't like the way negative energy felt, and I would focus on the positives in my life, and visualize and work toward a positive life.

It took time, years actually, before I began to realize that removing negative people, negative situations from my life and staying committed to visualizing only a positive future and surrounding myself with positive people had a tremendous impact not only on my life, but on my healing process.

Do I believe in ghosts?  Yes, actually I do, because we're pure energy, and I think sometimes our energy stays behind when something is unresolved in life.

Do I practice white magic?  No, but I do practice positive visualization, which is basically daydreaming of my future and then acting upon making my dreams come true.

From my mother's odd behavior and my brothers little jaunt into magic I extracted an important lesson about living a positive life, and drawing positive energy into my life, which helped me to heal. 

I learned to turn the biggest negative in my life, into a positive, and life became more beautiful with each passing year.

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