Comments on: Anchors

By: Jane Devin

Jane Devin — Sat, 24 Jan 2009 14:30:48 +0000

Not that I’m biased or anything, but I do think the women (an occasional man) that come here are the best. I enjoy comments, but I also enjoy when stories and experiences are shared. I feel like I’ve learned a lot from those who post here.

By: Kate McLaughlin

Kate McLaughlin — Fri, 23 Jan 2009 16:38:22 +0000

I love the way you make me think, Jane. I’ve reread this several times to clarify my thoughts.
I am my own anchor. I feel connected to others almost all the time and must , at times, exert effort to disconnect and protect. As I age, this connection and protection, this active living, is much healthier and contented. I do love that facet of aging.
Like V, I recharge in solitude; and I feel ragged and scattered when I’ve not allowed myself that time.
On a final note, I love the community you’ve created here. I read and listen a lot, commenting only occasionally. But all of you spark thoughts and ideas and make me happy.
Thank you!

By: Jane Devin

Jane Devin — Wed, 21 Jan 2009 22:59:15 +0000

V – I’m nodding my head. I think we’re related.

Ann, that was a beautiful story, and had that Southern feel that I’ve always found so touching. Thank you for sharing it here.

By: Suzanne

Suzanne — Wed, 21 Jan 2009 22:29:21 +0000

Ann – Of course she did … she came to get him.

Thank-you for sharing, it really touched me. How lucky you are to have such an Aunt.

I’m sorry for your loss.

By: Ann Parker

Ann Parker — Wed, 21 Jan 2009 19:33:18 +0000

My aunt was my anchor and still is though she has been dead four years. She visits me from time to time in dreams like the one I posted about some time ago. She and my uncle had two boys. When my cousins were small, fifty years ago, a little boy who lived down by the river used to come up and play. Often he stayed all day and shared pbj’s with my cousins at lunch. Then they grew up and my cousins had careers but they all shared a passion for racing cars. Any old car they could get, they made into a racing car. They called their friend “Red Rod” because of an old red heep he made into a hot rod and drove all over town. Red Rod dropped out of school, he had a hard time learning but he knew his cars. My aunt and uncle had a shop on their property where the men worked on cars for extra income and also built the race cars. During the day when everyone was at work Red Rod worked in the garage sweeping and organizing and changing oil for customers who dropped by. It was his only source of income. On weekends they all loaded up the cars in car haulers and took off for the track. Red Rod helped load and unload and helped keep the cars running. This went on for years. My cousins married and had families but Red Rod lived in a little rented trailer and continued to work out in the shop and they all continued to race. He became one of those Southern cousins. A person who is so close to a family that they become a member. Even after my uncle and aunt retired, the racing went on. My uncle said many times “I’mo build me one mo’ car” and he would start from scratch again with Red Rod’s help.

My uncle called me last week and said they were all “all broke up” because Red Rod had a heart attack and died in his sleep. He didn’t have any insurance so my uncle and cousins paid to have him cremated and sprinkled his ashes out near the shop.

That night I dreamed my aunt drove up in a snowy white ’64 Mustang. She was pulling two car haulers and a little red wagon behind. She was shaking her head but smiling, and was wearing the white sun dress she always wears in my dreams. “you have no idea how far I had to drive to get here with this stuff” and she waved her arm toward the haulers she was towing. I looked in the direction where she waved and far off there were beautiful green pastures with bushes of bridal wreath in bloom. I like to believe in the spirit world, and I like to think Aunt Mary came to get Red Rod.

By: V-Grrrl

V-Grrrl — Wed, 21 Jan 2009 17:40:02 +0000

Because I feel things so strongly and share others’ emotions easily, I need to be alone for big chunks of time.

My loneliest moments aren’t when I’m physically by myself, but when I’m in the presence of a lot of people and don’t feel an emotional connection.