Letter to Dad–Father’s Day, June 21, 2015

Dad,

I’m crying right now.  I’m sitting here in a small café writing this as tears are falling down my face.  I’m not embarrassed, though.  I’m just letting the tears come while I talk to you.  And the funny thing is I feel like you are right here listening, so I’ll let you know without anger or fear, you did hurt me, Daddy.  And you hurt Momma, too.  And though I have my angry days and I have my weepy days, I also have my good days, too.  And on those days, I try to understand you and I try to remind myself that you are a hurt, broken soul, too.  So why don’t we start working together?  Why don’t we start forgiving each other?  Even though we didn’t have a bond, we had a connection.

I remember the day I needed help with the tuition for my massage and alternative healing school.  I had to make the final tuition payment of $2500 or I was going to be thrown out of the school.  I didn’t know how I was going to pay the bill.  I didn’t know where I was going to get the money.  I tried to get a loan at a bank but I had absolutely no collateral and was considered a bad risk!  I tried to borrow money on my Discover credit card.  What a mess that was!  I decided to get a cash advance and I remember the teller at the bank looking at me skeptically as she charged my credit card and handed me the money.

I walked out of the bank but then panicked!  How was I ever going to pay the credit company back next month to avoid additional charges?  I was having so much anxiety I actually took the money back to the bank and paid off the bill.  I had the money for less than two hours and still got hit with a fee for borrowing the money in the first place!  What a mess!  I didn’t know what to do.  I just had one option left and I wasn’t really comfortable with it.  Since the day I moved away from Kansas, I hadn’t asked you or Mom for anything.  I felt guilty asking now.  However, I had few other choices.   I finally swallowed my pride and called you and Mom for the money.  When I asked Mom for the loan, I cringed when she told me that she wasn’t sure you guys could loan me $2500.  She said she would have to discuss it with you when you came home.  God, why couldn’t she have just said yes?  I was so afraid when she said you would make the final decision.  We hung up the phone and I had to wait for several hours until you got home from work.

That evening Mom called me back.  Yes, I could have the money, but I would have to pay it back. It was a loan, not a gift.  Mom said a check would be in the mail to me the next day.  Thankfully, the check arrived in time for me to pay off my massage school tuition. I was able to graduate from The New Mexico School of Natural Therapeutics in 1998. When you and Mom visited me a few months later, January of 1999, you told me an amazing story.

You told me that you had been standing in line at the bank.  You had to get money for a new roof for the house.  As you stood in line, you heard a voice whisper in your head to take out an additional $2500 from savings.  You told me that you had argued back with the voice.  Why would you need $2500 more?  But the thought wouldn’t leave your head.  You were told again to move $2500 from savings to checking so it could be withdrawn.  You continued to silently argue back, a conflict raging in your own mind, until you were standing in front of the teller.  After getting the money you needed for the roof, you asked the teller to move $2500 from savings to checking but you didn’t know why.  You had given in to the voice and just followed directions.  At the last minute, before you left the bank, you made the transfer.  That night when you arrived home, Mom told you I had called for the loan.  “How much does she need?” you had asked.

As you told me in January of 1999, “I was shocked when Momma answered $2500, the exact amount I had been instructed to transfer.  Now I knew why!”  I was thrilled to hear this story because I have always believed in angels and intuition.  I was happy that you had this experience.  I also had a little surprise of my own for you.

Since the moment, I had received the money from you, I wrote out a check every month to pay you back.  The checks ranged from $20 to $100 but every month, you would receive my check.  I worked really hard, Dad.  My massage work in clinics and spas was going well.  So, that January of 1999, I was excited to hear your story.  The money you were instructed to give me changed my life.

And the last evening before you and Mom left New Mexico to return to Kansas, I slipped the next payment check into your hands before hugging you good-bye.  I had folded the check over twice, squeezed it into your palm, and walked out of your hotel room before you could look at it.  The check I gave you that day was for $1700, the remainder of the loan.  Mom told me later that you were so surprised by the money, you talked about it all the way back to Kansas.  You told her you were proud of me.  You were pleased that I had been able to completely pay you back within a few months.

That was our last time together before you passed away three months later on April 13, 1999.

But we remain connected through God and the angels.  Thank you for helping me and I’m really happy I was able to pay you back before you passed.  So through all of the hurt and all the pain, our time together in this lifetime ended with grace, pride, respect, and dignity.

Thank you, Daddy, for all you have taught me.  Thank you for creating the woman I am.

Happy Father’s Day, Dad!

Love,

Jamie

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Finding Meaning in Las Vegas

Even though I’ve enjoyed traveling around the world, I have been thinking lately that it is time for me to settle down. I need to get married, have a family, own a home and, perhaps, a dog. I’ve never been married and, honestly, I don’t have a lot of faith that it’s a possibility for me. I’m not good at flirting. I am awkward and shy. I’ve always been an outsider. I don’t do well with social games. I always tend to lose.

But last weekend, I was determined to change all of that. I was taking a few days off to go to Las Vegas. I just knew that this was going to be a great weekend for me. I had fantasies that I was going to meet someone very special. I tend to attract more people when I go out of town than when I’m at home. That’s easy to understand though. When I’m in my home city, I run around in sweats, with no make-up and my hair is unkempt. It’s different when I go out of town. I tend to make an effort to make myself more attractive.

So last Saturday, while I was in Vegas, I woke up early and took my time fixing my hair and make-up. I put on a long skirt that makes me look taller. My 5’5” frame looked slimmed and stretched to at least 5’7. I felt great and attractive as I walked down the Vegas strip. I’ll admit I did a few tosses of my long curled copper red hair as I smiled beguilingly at the people walking around me. I even caught myself glancing every now and then at my reflection in the windows of the shops and restaurants as I passed by. I laughed and took pictures and just felt happy and attractive… until I reached one of the overhead pedestrian walkways that crossed over South Las Vegas Boulevard.

I decided not to take the escalator or elevator. I felt strong and healthy so I went bounding up the twelve concrete steps. I was near the top of the stairs when suddenly the front tip of the sandal on my right foot caught on the edge of the top step and I felt myself pitching forward.

I put out my hands but wasn’t able to stop myself. I fell forward onto my face but that wasn’t the end of this escapade. By the time it registered in my brain that I was always falling, I was already rolling down the steps. Within seconds, I found myself sprawled in a tangle of limbs and long full skirt on the corner of Aria and South Las Vegas Boulevard. I laid there for a moment burning with embarrassment in front of all of the people. Yet, I felt strangely alone. No one helped me up. No one asked me if I was okay. Then I opened my eyes to find a group of men standing on the corner pointing at me and laughing hysterically.

I looked down at the palms of my hands that were scrapped raw. My left foot felt twisted and bruised. My biggest concern though was my camera. The little bottom door of the camera laid open and the batteries were falling out. Amid the sounds of loud laughter and chattering voices, I pulled myself up from the ground and snapped my camera back together. Then, with as much dignity as I could muster, I began to walk back up the steps, moving slowly but with my head held high. I reached the top and continued my journey down the strip still feeling my body tingling with embarrassment. I should have known better. I shouldn’t have been strutting. I shouldn’t have been feeling so proud and pleased with myself. I should have known I was going to crash for being so…

“Hey, hey, Red,” I suddenly heard a voice call. “Hey, Red!” I looked away from my thoughts now and noticed a homeless man standing directly in front of me. He was wearing torn denim shorts and a stained brown plaid button door shirt that was hanging open to display his thin bony chest. His long hair was clumped together with dirt and his long goatee was braided to a point at his chin. “Oh, God,” I groaned inwardly as my body still ached from the fall, “what now?”
“This is for you, Red,” the man said as he suddenly turned and jumped onto a short concrete pillar. He sat on the pillar as the fountains of the Bellagio Hotel suddenly burst into action. Large streams of water suddenly sprayed up and danced in time to the music from Phantom of the Opera.

The homeless man didn’t miss a single movement or beat as he waved his hands around in time to the music. I was suddenly captivated by this man, drawn helplessly into his fantasy. As I watched his movements, I truly believed he was conducting a massive water orchestra. Every few seconds, the man turned around and smiled at me as I stood on the sidewalk. At the end of the performance, he jumped down off the pillar and bowed elegantly to me before taking his place again on the sidewalk with the rest of the people who were begging for handouts. I smiled then as I walked down the strip to the Mirage Hotel.

Once inside the Secret Garden, I stood before the cage of the white tigers. Two of the tigers were perched up on a low tree branch as they lazily passed away the sunny afternoon. One of the tigers was staring directly at me. I was so mesmerized by this creature, I couldn’t turn away. I felt so connected to this amazing animal as we continued to make direct contact. The whole universe existed within his round dark eyes. “It’s the hair,” I suddenly heard a voice say. I turned around to look at the trainer who was standing next to me. The young man smiled at me and said, “The tiger is fascinated with your red hair.” I smiled then and felt a light blush tinge my cheeks as I slowly pulled myself away from the front of the cage.

I walked over to the dolphin habitat then. While most people were crowded around the large tank where several trainers were working with three dolphins, I stood next to the second smaller tank, playing with two young dolphins. I watched in awe as the animals jumped out of the water and spun in the air. Several times, the dolphins pushed their gray shiny bodies up on the dock directly in front of me. “See,” a trainer whispered from behind me, “they like you. They’re showing off for you.”

I was actually deeply happy then. I smiled with my heart because now I truly understood the purpose of this day. Maybe I was never meant to get married and settle down. Maybe I was never meant to have a husband and family. Maybe the dog and the house were out of my reach. My life consists instead of jumping dolphins, mesmerizing white tigers, and a homeless man who conducts water symphonies for me. My life is pure and joyful. I am truly blessed.