It had been raining the past few days.
And I am preoccupied with a lot of good memories
which had happened decades and decades
ago – fond memories of my childhood, all associated with rain.
There was one incident in my life which I will never forget. It was a weekend, a perfect summer afternoon, I was four years old. My little girlfriends came to fetch me so we could and play at our nearby farm. My mother gave us her blessing, stressing that we should be back before dusk. We took our time doing what we had always been doing – playing games, hide-and-seek, picking some half-ripen fruits and snacking on them. We never run out of activities to do.
Typical of a young child, I always find time to wander around and explore the surrounding areas. It was drizzling and started to get dark. For some unexplainable reason, I was compelled to go see a strange-looking leaning tree (a fully matured mango tree). What I saw made me frozen. There was my mother leaning against the tree, nicely dressed up. She was wearing her favourite outgoing outfit – white lacey top, matching with a full-length organza skirt with exotic red-burgundy floral prints. Her long black hair was done up into a thick bun and nicely finished by a hair accessory, matching her floral skirt. She looked radiant and beautiful, her enchanting smile mesmerized me. I didn’t actually see her opening her mouth but I heard her hypnotic voice say: “Come here, come here”. I was young and didn’t understand what was going on. I felt like going near her but my instinct was telling me not to. It was an eerie feeling. I then recalled the time when we left the house. My mother was wearing a simple house dress. And I remember she only wears that pretty outfit on special occasions. And that time, there was none.
Before I knew it, I was running home like a jet (that fastest that I did so far!). I didn’t know where my little friends were but all I did was run straight home and looked for my mother. Seeing her was a real huge relief. She was surprised seeing me so petrified and gray. She examined my body, thinking that I must have fallen from a tree – asking questions which I didn’t have a chance to answer. I was completely tongue-tied.
I never told her of what transpired that day. I was just happy to see her in real. All the while, I thought I lost her to that leaning tree.
My first workplace was in an advertising agency. I remember one of those cocktail gatherings I attended. Those were the days of knee-length skirts, the “in” thing. Instead of going with the trend, I decided to come up with my own “out-of-this-world” fashion sense. Everyone loved it. One even said that I had some kind of “radiance” that day. I had a white top on … with a matching skirt. Yes, that was the full-length organza skirt with red-burgundy floral print. (Still looked perfectly good after all those years). I specifically asked my mother if I could have that skirt. Request granted. She even gave me few more of her favourite skirts which had then became part of my wardrobe. I quite remember I wore that floral skirt in most of my job interviews. (And I passed them all with flying colours!). Such a magical pull, perhaps, from that humble skirt.
I tried to find the answers to what must have happened that odd afternoon. But there was not a concrete explanation at all. I’ve mentioned that incident to some people specializing in the field of paranormal phenomenon. As well, I conferred with few psychics and healers. There were no satisfactory answers. Few of them thought that I must have been running a high temperature that day. I was not! Others believed I must have fallen asleep while I was in the middle of playing, and dreamt of the incident. No, I did not and was not!
I came up with some ideas, so far. It must have been my mother’s spirit – trying to send me some uplifting messages. One was to be home before dusk. It could also be another good spirit which chose to form a physical body … that of my mother’s. Or it must have been an assigned lifetime guiding spirit.
I could have gotten rid of the skirt after the incident, but I opted not. I kept it and used it because in my mind, it played a key role in my life. It was a symbol of my mother (her dedication and unparallel love for us). And it became my guiding light, an instrument to reach the place where I am right now. (It had been ten years ago since my mother passed away, almost forty years after that “incident with the leaning tree”). So far, my life’s journey had been, all throughout, a good one. I don’t have complaints. None because I had always lived with my mother’s spirit … through her magical skirt. And just like the floral prints, life had been a bed of flowers. Challenging yet colourful.
I hope this little story serves as a reminder of how strong; undying love manifests itself … even in the strangest ways.
Take care and have a beautiful summer morning.
Keep smiling … I am,
Editor’s Note. I hope you enjoyed this article. Noy has built up quite a following for her posts here and at “Tools to Life“. If you have not taken the Tools course both Noy and I are graduates and we urge you to take this life transforming course.
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