No one believes me, and when they do, they never approve - they feel uncomfortable and sometimes, so do I, but it is time to share the memory anyway.
Mind's eye - with happy parents and romantic ones, and seven Irish Uncles on Dad's side, I was bound to be a bit fey. NOT always happily as when I'd find "The Merry Widow Waltz" strangely appealing - my Father said " you peeked" - looking into your own future. The idea that I would probably be a widow if statistics held, but not necessarily so unhappy....things like that make it difficult to share sometimes.
But it is easier to share this part of the true story: dreaming in odd moments ,as girls do, about my handsome prince to come one day, and learning the lessons with enthusiasm and happiness, only some of the lessons were needed for running outdoors to capture a flower in the watercolors. But on one day in May, almost too warm already, there was urgency - I'd spotted the bright blue Bachelors' Buttons but knew they'd be wilting unless I got there in time to make the painting to save and share.
Out I ran and began, but only a few minutes into the happy task, I stopped and looked up- the sun was a bit warm and dreamy for a minute and there he was - like that silly teletubbies introduction or a holy thing - the face of my beloved-to-be, and no doubt about it. His hair not brown and yet not really blonde, not straight but not curly , full and handsome; the smile aimed right at me, caught my breath; the wonderful eyes not blue, not brown, but grey and green and with flecks of gold and one with mine for the unswerving path -then and always.
I dropped my paints and decided I'd captured enough and ran indoors, and opened my mouth to tell my Mother and could not - it was mine - ours - ours, from that moment on.
And I was focused, and able to concentrate more on things I might need to NOT fail him. But the painting went on and soon it was December and the most wonderful blizzard - I was secure in my strong and beautiful parents- not afraid of strong weather, but ran TO it, and when I saw that the intensity of the blizzard was so dense the the colortrick was happening in the sky, I grabbed the paints and ran out into it to capture it - white sun with a golden halo all around and one more gasp as I saw our son - yes! White son/ yellow sky indeed! This time, maybe it was the cold, but I dropped it and ran indoors a bit shivery and said nothing again.
Then it was more work and end of grammar school and I'd studied and won the spot I wanted in the private high school and it was day one of Latin one - "amo, amas, amat..." and at "amanda = she must be loved " I froze again - and suddenly "oh....I have a little girl, too ....and her name is Amanda and she is my tiny jewel! "
And then soon it was art at the college, drafted from my highschool to do some and a dance to celebrate the project and my tummy ill with dread at dancetime and my friends staring at me with that look. Yikes - what IS it?
And so it began - he found me laughing in good heart and asked me to dance - both of us stunned and thrilled and sure - he'd seen me and the one I saw back was the he I'd seen that spring painting the bachelors' buttons. And we stayed that merry till his sudden and early death after only 17 years, but it was seventeen amazing years, I realize more and more and I am glad I peeked and saw my happiness and lived it, whether anyone thinks it more than madness or not.
There have been visions since, but baptized and educated, I do not really encourage them - worry about losing a happy reality. And with my subsequent redcross works, sometimes the visions were frightening and sad. Once ...only once I was able to prevent a disaster, so okay, there was good in that one. Usually not, though. But, still I am glad for the power and joy in life those early one brought and forever delighted and grateful and healed.