Dahmi and the Magic of Autumn

Dahmi is a very old soul.  We met over 25 years ago, both of us the first of the female technicians in a predominantly male industry.  We bonded instantly.

Dahmi is much younger than I am by a good 10 years.  She was living the life I should have been, being a mother, holding a steady job, being at home at night.  Meanwhile, in my twenties, I was foot loose and fancy free, no intention to marry, no intention to have children.


The first day we met, Dahmi and I started a conversation that has continued through the years.  Mostly, we try to figure out how best to make sense of some of the unusual abilities we both seem to have.


Dahmi is now in her late thirties, her daughter Leah, now in her early twenties.  Leah has three children, Autumn, Billy, and baby Little Man, and they are Dahmi's grandchildren.


Several months ago, a terrible, terrible, thing happened to the whole family.  Little Man, who was several months old, and in perfect health, went to sleep on night and just forgot to wake up.  Everyone was so devastated, and will always be.  With my never ending obsession with death, Dahmi and I have been chatting about it lately.  


"A few weeks ago" Dahmi is telling me, "Autumn pulled my blue leather Bible off the bookshelf and asked to borrow it.  Apparently she has been going to bed with it each night."

Autumn will be 5 years old  in July.

"She has told me a few different things about the reason she has this bible.  Last night she was reading it in her bed.  When I went to tuck in Billy and Autumn in, I bent down to kiss Billy a kiss on the lower bunk.

Then Autumn says,  from her upper bunk "Don't forget about me."

"Of course not kid." I say.

So, I walk up to her and I say,  "Are you reading the Bible?"  

Autumn says, "I will give it back to you when I finish each page. Tonight I only read one page."

While she is talking, she is smoothing the pages in the Bible.  She is flipping through the pages showing me each page that she has already read.  I ask her why she is reading the Bible

She tells me,  "Dahmi,  I am trying to find out what happened to our Little Man."

So I ask her,  "Do you think you will find that in there?"

And Autumn replies,  "Yes, I do.  I already did once, and she flips to a page and says..I think it was about here."

So I ask her, "Do you know what that book is?"

Autumn says,  "Yes I do."

And I reply with, "You know it's the word of the lord?",  and she says, "Yes, I know"

Then Autumn says,   "Dahmi...I really hope that my great grandma is taking good care of our Little Man."


So the conversation went on a bit but that was the gist of it. "


Dahmi continues, "This was the second time that she told me that she was trying to find out what happened to our Little Man.  At first I thought she meant..how did he die but that is not what she means.  She is trying to find out where he is and where did he go."

"So what did have you told her?" I ask.

"Well, Paula, actually I haven't .  I just realized today that she is trying to figure that out." Dahmi answers.

"Tell her about how water turns to mist, it's still there, Little Man is still here, he's just around us."  I say, having thought about this very conversation with my own children so many times.

"She sees spirits Paula..or at least she used to...." Dahmi says. 

"I would beleive that of any grandchild of yours." I say in all seriousness,  because Dahmi has always been off the grid psychic.

"Autumn used to tell me about a guy who would stand in her room.   She said he was dead and he wore a chef's hat. She didn't like him much, and  I told her to tell him to go away."

"The interesting thing is that a mentally challenged guy used to live downstairs." Dahmi goes on, "he was murdered in Rapid Run park.  I tried to find out information on him but it's sketchy. He lived with his sister, and would walk around the neighborhood with a transistor radio to his ear."

"Rapid run is full of ghosts, all the old Jewish cemeteries are there." I add.

"I know, all along the hillside." Dahmi says.

"I actually know quite a few of them." I laugh.    

"Okay..so what do you make of Autumn  and her bible?  Kinda odd, isn't it?  Almost creepy, but I think it is more helpful than harmful.  i think it may be giving her some sort of comfort."

"I think it's beautiful" I say, thinking of how far beyond her years Autumn is.  

"It seems to suggest an awareness or maturity way beyond her years." Dahmi says so earnestly, at the very same moment I'm thinking it.


It makes me laugh, and I say, "I don't know, Dahmi,  do ya think?"


Then we're both laughing and saying goodbye, always knowing we'll be chatting again soon.

Let Me Take You on a Sentimental Journey

Someday, I will live in a stone house whose interior will have lots of nooks and alcoves. The house will have a library, a breakfast nook, a studio, an office, and two bedrooms.

There will be a large veranda where we will have coffee in the morning. The kitchen will have a fireplace with a large brick hearth, where we can sit and warm ourselves on cold winter evenings.

In the library we will collect books. All kinds of books. I will have an entire section dedicated to nothing but pop-up books. We will have beautiful wooden shelves to hold our books. There will be a great window with a built in seat facing west, so that we can sit and read and catch the last rays of the day.

The library will smell like we do, wood and lavender, mixed together just like us. The kind of smell that drifts unexpectedly by you years later and transports you back in time.

Our studio will face east, to get the best of the morning light. It will be divided into two sides; one side for things we don't want paint getting on, the other side for everything else. One wall of the studio will be a large bay window, where we can set up our easels, and never have to put them away.

Occasionally, when I must, I will sit in my office, with windows on both sides of desk, and make the money I need by working from anywhere. I will become a very famous writer and a very successful media consultant.

When you have to travel, I will always get to go along. I will be able to work from anywhere in the world. We will go visit a lot of amazing places together and get to write it all off as a business expense on our taxes.

The only company we enjoy more than our own is each others. I will remember our secret conversations, the ones in our heads, that nobody else can hear. Revelations and hypothesis flying through our temples like electric sparks as we rub our heads together, conjuring the truth.

To dream it means to see it.  To see it means to believe it.  To believe it means to achieve it.  

The Snake, the Wren Family, and Liberty Gold

Have I ever told you about my friend Liberty Gold? We met in high school, a million years ago, and I was in awe of her from the first moment.

Liberty, even at 15ish, had serious magic, and even back then, I knew it. She could create a piece of art from nothing, draw a portrait of you better than a Polaroid, and nurse a piece of nature back to life from the brink of death. All at the same time. She still can.

A couple of weeks ago, we had a string of terrible storms.

Liberty Gold lives in the branch of Eden located down on River Road. Her neighbors, the Wren family, had been hit hard by the storms, as did many of the inhabitants of River Road Eden.

Discussing the storms, Liberty casually mentions the Wren family. "The parents rounded up 3 survivors and led them off into the woods. I hope they find a nice place to stay till they can fly."

"How many baby Wrens where there before the storm?" I ask. "That's an epic tale of survival and love."

"I'm not sure, I thought 4 but it could have been 5. That snake had a mighty big bulge." Liberty answers.

"OH MY GOD!" I shriek like only an urban princess can, "There was a snake? Fine, now I have to hear the whole story."

"OK, here it is.", Liberty begins, "There was a terrible screeching of Wrens outside the door last evening, after the storms and the hail and the flooding. The parent Wrens were yelling and fluttering about in a mad frenzy. I know not if the babies were screaming as well, it was difficult to hear anything above the din."

"I ran out to see what was the matter and to my amazement, there... wound up around the nest, engulfing it completely, even as to enclose the only opening that would allow escape of the poor doomed chicks within... was a rather large rat snake, it's body writhing as it constricted the once safe and loved home of my little house Wren family."

"Without thinking of my own safety", Liberty grins at me, "I snatched up the snake in one hand as I tried to catch the fleeing babies as they tumbled from the nest in horror. The snake, (dastardly fiend), had a rather largish bulge in it's midsection... too late for that one i thought, as i carried the wicked marauder of to an undisclosed location."

I picture Liberty holding Wren babies in one hand while swinging the snake over her head with the other.

"Once back at the nest," she continues "the young birds were scattered about the porch with the parents diving and calling in obvious and sheer panic. Returning the babies to the nest was an exercise in futility to say the least. Looking closer, one of their siblings was still in the nest... it's lifeless body a horrible reminder of what they were trying to escape."

Liberty gives me a heavy sigh, "Gawd this is taking forever. So, the babies fled in all directions, into the late evening twilight... with more storms rumbling off in the distance."

"Anyway... there were 3 in a nice little pile on the steps this morning and mom and dad in attendance." and that is the end of her story.

I'm in awe and can only muster a "WOW", speechlessness being foreign to me. "That was an epic tale of courage."

That Liberty Gold is my girl. I love her.