Marilyn

I’m going to reveal a secret. I think it’s time I confessed. Whenever I am alone at home, in the car, or at work, I am constantly singing. I can’t seem to stop. Lately, I have found myself bursting out in song even when I am at the grocery store. I will stand right in the frozen foods section and belt out a few verses of “Heat Wave.” My voice, however, quickly dissolves into a heavy sigh or raging cough whenever someone approaches. I don’t sing around other people. I don’t want anyone to tell me that I am off-key or out of tune. I already know my voice is weak and pitchy. But that doesn’t stop me when I am alone. I still continue to sing using my hairbrush or television remote as a microphone. It’s a childhood activity I have never outgrown.

So I continue to sing and scribble down lyrics on napkins or in my class notes. I have been writing songs since I was six-years-old. In high school, I would sit in the back of the room scribbling silly love songs in my notebook instead of paying attention to my history lesson. I had dreams of being a singer/songwriter back then. Unfortunately, the dreams are recurring. By all rights, I should be Shania Twain or Taylor Swift. I can close my eyes and see a complete picture of myself on stage dramatically singing my songs to a large cheering crowd.

In reality, though, when the dream ends, I’m not on stage. Instead, I am usually in the audience. I love to go to concerts. It is the only thing I splurge on. I will go without new clothes and shop for groceries at the 99 Cent Store just to have the extra money I need to buy a concert ticket.

Last Saturday night, November 1, I had a ticket to see Reba McEntire at Fantasy Springs Casino in Indio, California. I have never seen Reba before and was excited for the show. I arrived at the venue early that night so I decided to go to the bowling alley snack bar and get a cup of coffee. Not being a gambler, I decided to just relax and read until the doors of the theater were open.

I sat at a small round table and alternately stuck my nose in my coffee cup and my paperback book. Suddenly, I heard a voice behind me say, “Where is the trash can? Is that the trash can?”

I looked up and saw an elderly woman standing behind me. She was slightly hunched over and she shuffled across the floor in a slow awkward tilted gait. The woman was wearing white pants and a blue striped shirt that was covered by a white cardigan. A little white hat that looked like a sailor’s cap turned inside out sat on top of her gray curly hair and drooped down around her large black framed glasses. I smiled at her for a moment and then pulled my chair closer to the table to make sure I was out of her way.

The woman thanked me and then dumped her trash in the metal can behind me. She turned slowly to go back to her table but then stopped and looked at me. She asked me if I was going to the concert that night. “Oh, yes, I’m really excited about this show,” I answered and the woman happily clapped her hands together.

“I’m going, too,” she told me. “I go see everybody. I don’t care if they’re white or black, gay, lesbian. It doesn’t matter. I just want to hear the music and see the shows. After every show I’ve ever seen I always thank God for blessing me so greatly. I got to witness the talents of so many great people and I always say thank you Jesus for blessing me so. I got to see Sammy Davis, Jr and Elvis Presley. I saw Librace four times! How lucky am I! I’m Marilyn.”

“Hi, Marilyn,” I told her as I reached out my hand. “My name is Jamie.”

“Oh, Jamie,” Marilyn stated as she grabbed my hand warmly. “How wonderful. We are going to witness a great talent together tonight. I’m 85-years-old and I’ve gotten to experience so much! God is so good!”

As I stared at Marilyn for a moment, I tried not to reveal my shock. This beautiful woman with this amazing spirit was 85? I know much younger people who don’t possess a fraction of her energy and enthusiasm. Marilyn was excited now and she couldn’t stop talking. I didn’t mind. I do the same thing when I am happy. So I put down my book and looked right at her as I listened to her voice that rattled, shook , and cracked as she continued on. “Yes, Barbara Walters turned 85 in September. I’m turning 85 in December. She retired. Why? I think I’m going to last longer than Barbara Walters. I’m so excited. I’m so lucky. What good fortune that I have seen so many shows and so much talent. Thank you, Jesus. Thank you for creating all of the lovely talented people. Thank you for blessing me because I get to see all of the talent. I love to see these talented people. Black, white, gay, lesbian…I don’t care. I love them! And I’m so lucky. What a blessed life I have had to witness such amazing talent. Look how Jesus has blessed me! I’ve been in the audience at the best shows and witnessed the greatest talent.”
Marilyn’s great enthusiasm dimmed only once when she mentioned the government. Or as my friend Marilyn stated, “The fucking government…Oh, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” She giggled as her small hands rose up to cover her mouth. I just laughed. I figure if someone is 85-years-old, he or she has earned the right to say anything. The light in Marilyn’s eyes returned as she continued to talk about all of the great shows she had seen.

A few minutes later, Marilyn’s friend arrived and they left the snack bar. I trailed them through the casino where Marilyn, who claimed to have stopped gambling four years ago, was walking around the slot machines cheering on the gamblers or offering them unsolicited advice. I felt brilliant in her presence and dazzled by her enthusiasm.

An hour later, I was sitting in the audience of the Fantasy Springs performance center listening to Reba’s amazing talent. And when the concert was over I thanked God for blessing me so. I walked by Marilyn and her friend on my way out. I leaned over and took her hand. “What did you think, Marilyn?” I asked her. “Did you have fun?”

“Oh, I used to be a schoolteacher,” Marilyn told me. “Reba gets an A plus plus plus. What an amazing gift she has. Thank you God. I have been so blessed.” I squeezed Marilyn’s hand then and left the theater after saying good night.

I walked out of the performance center with a prayer of my own. Thank you God for allowing me to witness so many amazing and beautiful spirits tonight. And thank you for the lesson I learned from my dear 85 year old friend, Marilyn. A gift is a talent we share with others; a blessing is the ability to appreciate those gifts. Thanks to Marilyn, I now know the difference. I may not be gifted like Shania or Taylor or Reba, but now I know God has continued to bless me endlessly.

I

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Angel In the Mirror

Because I felt the need to laugh
I bought myself a mirror
And every time I looked inside
An angel would appear

She had a halo of endless gold
And wings that shimmered with spring
And with every prayer I would say
She would start to sing

She sang to me of the universe
And blessings soon to come
And when I needed comfort
She would start to hum

She was my tender spirit
The other part of me
And I knew without a single word
That God has always loved me

And then one day to my dismay
My mirror began to crack
My angel flew out of the glass
I didn’t know if she’d be back

I cried that night because I thought
That I was all alone
But then I heard angelic voices
A choir of angels was in my home

The angels sang with all their might
And gave God’s word to me
“God is forever by your side
And shall always be

So don’t be sad if your mirror
Should suddenly fall apart
It had been just a reflection
Of what is in your heart

Travel with God by your side
And learn to have no fear
And when you need to have a laugh
Remember…
You are the angel in the mirror”

–Jamie Zunick

The Randomness of My Life

I was reading back over my blogs the other day and released that there’s not really a theme. Was I supposed to have one? I noticed that most bloggers write about a certain thing–fashion, food, travel. But I can’t seem to focus. I can’t seem to choose one thing. I realized then that my blogs are just as random and unorganized as my life.

It made me think of a writing assignment I was giving a few years ago. What was the best year of my life in a 5-year span? I still don’t know how to answer that. Nothing actually stands out in my mind. I have never climbed Mount Everest, sailed around the world, or performed a heroic feat that saved another person’s life. Maybe I didn’t know what to write because I couldn’t think of a specific moment that turned my life around. I have never married. I don’t have children. I have never won the lottery. My life instead has been very different. It has been a day-to-day process. It has been a continuous unfolding of insight and understanding. I see my life as being an endless progression of trial and error.

Maybe I am trying too hard. Maybe I am overthinking the question. Maybe I should think about the happy moments of my life. Maybe I should think of the times that have made me feel alive and joyful to be in this world. I think of my miraculous moments. I have seen angels and other visions. I have helped people heal through massage and energy work. I have traveled extensively around the world. I have gone to several different schools and graduated with honors. I have taught in several different schools and helped others graduate with honors. I have waded in the oceans. I have gazed at mountains shining purple in the sunlight. I have received hugs from family and friends. I have experienced painful breakups of relationships. I have watched friends and family suffer and pass through my life no matter how hard I tried to hold onto them. I have read great books that showed me a different way of life. I have seen great movies that have inspired emotions deep within me. I have listened to amazing music that moves my soul in the same way it moves my feet. I have screamed for victory at sporting events. I have competed in the race of life for an attainable victory. I have tried to be kind, though I know I don’t always succeed when I am tired or stressed. I have taken beautiful photographs and have become frustrated when others don’t see the amazing things that I do. I have been strong at times and shown amazing courageous. I have been shy at other moments and cowered away from perceived threats. I have held babies. I have watered plants. I have cared for pets. I have treasured objects that would have no value to anyone else. I have lived life to the very brink of its existence. I have slept and being lazy on warm summer days. I have eaten great food and then worried about my weight. I have exercised and loved my body. I have hated my body and every one of its flaws has left me depressed and feeling unlovable. I have moments when I have doubted God’s existence. There were days when I have doubted my own existence. There are times when I have been a great believer just because I saw a sunrise or a drop of rain. I have great faith that won’t diminish even on days of sadness. I have great sadness that can sometimes diminish my faith. I have had a life filled with many years of great joy and tremendous sadness. I have had many years that I want to live again and others I would wish to erase from my memory.

So to answer what is the best year of my life, what can I say? Maybe I haven’t lived enough. Maybe I have lived too much. I can’t concentrate on one idea. My life is swirling in front of my eyes as if I am about to pass over into a new existence. When I finally do pass over into a new existence, will I look back on the best year of my life? Will I know then when the best time of my life had been? No, I will only know that I had a life…

The Plan

Jamie Jo Zunick. Like most children, I hated my name while I was growing up. First, the other little kids used to tease me about having a boy’s name. Second, the last name of Zunick always kept me firmly situated at the back of any line. Finally, my mother told me that I was named after my father. His name was Joseph John Zunick. We have the same initials. Unfortunately, that’s all we ever shared. My father and I never had a relationship even though we lived in the same house. That was partly my fault, though. I was terrified of my father. I would try to avoid his emotional and verbal abuse by staying as far out of his presence as I possibly could. I don’t think he ever missed me. I don’t think he even knew I was gone.

Unforunately, I couldn’t hide from eveybody. Going to school was always miserable for me. Other children would laugh and tease me because I had a very bad speech impediment. I literally spoke my own form of gibberish that no one could understand. My first grade teacher thought I was “retarded” or just lazy…or maybe both. Her solution was to hit me for every word I mispronounced… I got hit a lot. I became mute for many years.

Even though, I stopped talking, I continued to think and to dream and to explore. There was a will inside me to never give up. I wanted to prove that I wasn’t retarded or lazy or worthless. I began to read a lot of classic books like Gone With the Wind, The Grapes of Wrath, and Les Miserables. I put myself through college working three jobs while going to school full time to gain my Bachelor’s Degree. I lived for a year in England and explored Europe. I spent an eye-opening and soul-searching few weeks backpacking alone across Malaysia. When I returned to America, I studied massage, energy reading, energy balancing, and chakra therapy. I owned and operated a large private office in New Mexico for seven years. I still continued to do energy and chakra readings in California. I am a teacher now at a college in Southern California. I hope to teach my students more than Basic Math and English. I want to teach them about following dreams, about leaving behind the past, about moving forward, about confidence and self-discipline…all the things I am still discovering. I just recently published my first book, The Sweetness of Life, which details my life events. Over the years, I’ve realized one constant: there has always been a plan for my life. I had to go through everything in my past to get to where I am today. I have been so blessed. I am a woman, strong and determined. I am a teacher, sharing my wisdom. I am a healer, helping others through the confusion and pain of life. I am a storyteller, crafting tales of life’s adventures. I say my name with pride now. I am Jamie Jo Zunick.