THE SPIRITS I WILL NEVER SEE AGAIN

The Old Lady

Tigger and I played after school and on weekends.  While at Tiggers, I saw the old lady.  She seemed to spend most of her time in the back dinning/family room.  I would see her pass by the door that led to the rest of the house.  She never crossed the threshold, never spoke to anyone and carried on as though we weren’t there.  She always wore the same black dress and shoes.  None of Tigger’s family members claimed to know her.  Tigger indicated that I was seeing the old lady that lived at her house.   I guess we were the intruders.  Regardless, I felt comfortable in her presence.  I just saw my first spirit, my first of many to come. 

Danda

Danda (my grandfather) was eighty eight and blind when I was born.  He lived with us until his health declined, at which point he spent holidays and some weekends with us.  I rarely saw him but I knew he loved me!  I enjoyed watching television with him.  The fact he was blind never interfered with us watching tv together.  Danda passed away when I was ten.  One weekend while watching television, I felt an energy that filled the room.  Upon looking towards the opposite sofa, there sat Danda.  He looked the same.  He was wearing his red flannel shirt.  This was somewhat overwhelming and scary to me.  There was no doubt in my mind he was dead.  I tried to get up and run but I felt something holding me back.  I was unable to move.  My body was thrust forward once he disappeared.  And then…..I ran!

Different Never to be the Same

On occasion I would see the old lady.  She was somewhat like the others that lived at Tiggers, with the exception that she didn’t interact with anyone.  Danda, now that was a different story.  I have never seen him again.  Somewhere after this time, things changed for me.  I no longer saw spirits as I saw the old lady and Danda.  I began to see them in a much different manner!

DINNER, GHOSTS AND THE HEAD

Sunday Dinner

Tigger’s mother (Mima) was a great cook.  I have very fond memories of arroz con pollo and platanitos maduro .   This is still my favorite comfort food.   I soon realized if I wanted to eat at Tiggers on Sunday, I most definitely needed to manage my learning skills as it pertained to speaking Spanish.   Immediately after Tigger's family moved in to the home across the street, I came to the realization that “Americana” was my new nickname.  Or at least the name I was given at Tigger’s house.   “Quieres comer?”  Now we are talking.   I was about to feast on the most delectable meal around.   Now speaking Spanish was paramount to my happy tummy and vital for the many things that were yet to come. 

Ghosts

Ghost stories were rampant at Tigger’s.  We would tell the usual scary stories.    Tigger always had a new story about an old lady that lived with them at their home.  Was the old lady part of the family? Had she moved in with them?  Where did she sleep?  I had yet to see her but Tigger swore she lived there.  I guessed I would meet her soon.  And so I did!

Beads and the Stone

Tigger’s home was decorated differently, smelled enticingly delicious and even the music was something I had never experienced.   She had “strange stuff” at her house.   Nothing I had ever seen before.  However, I found all of these differences mysteriously familiar.   Mima wore multi-colored beads that looked different than hippie beads.  These were not made of wood nor did they have a peace sign hanging from them.  I was oddly attracted to their unique beauty. 

Inside of an octagonal end table lived a stone head that you could see only when the table doors were open.   The head had what looked like eyes, a nose and a mouth made from……….shells?  It had a feather sticking out of the top of the head.  Was it a bird?  I had a parakeet at home but our bird looked nothing like this little guy.  Besides, the head drank coffee and smoked cigars.  

Odd? Yes!  Scary? No.  Strangely, I felt a bond that attracted me to these cultural differences.  Without realizing it, I was on the road to my destiny.