the power of prayer and my magic ring

The past few weekends The Deistette and I have been working for my sister in-law at a wedding facility she manages.  She was short handed at the last minute one weekend so we agreed to help her out. Well, that one weekend has turned into four. I shouldn’t complain. I mean the extra money has been nice but because it’s about an hour away from us so it makes for a pretty long day.

It’s a neat venue for having a wedding.  They do the ceremony in a small garden-like area that can accommodate about 150 people. The couple does their thing in a gazebo to exchange vows and afterward everyone heads into the reception hall about 30 feet away.

A couple of hours into the reception, someone will start putting away the chairs and decorations from the ceremony. Last weekend that someone was me. Ugh. There I stood looking at a hundred wooden folding chairs thinking, “holy crap it’s humid out here.”  It took me about 40 minutes and two trips to load them onto a flatbed cart, wheel them to the storage area and unload them. Afterward I went back into the reception hall and started picking up plates, restocking items in the kitchen, breaking down the bar, then other clean up. It was pretty much non-stop until we left.

Ugh… when we left.  That’s when I realized that I’d lost my ring… my wedding ring. God I was sick. I took it off when I started putting away the chairs because I didn’t want it to get smashed or cut into my fingers ’cause I was sure my hands would start swelling as I was putting them away.

After telling The Deistette about my lost ring, I called my sister in-law while we drove home. My sister in-law had already left the venue but said she would take a look the next day.

Well, she didn’t go in like she thought she would on Sunday and wouldn’t be there until Monday afternoon. I was sure I had put it in the pocket of the vest I was wearing so it would have to be in the washing machine — unless it fell out while I had been putting the chairs away.  Holy crap.

She didn’t call until about 5:00 Monday evening.  She said she was sorry but she couldn’t find it and she had looked everywhere she thought it might be.

The next day I checked my pants again and again. I checked the floorboard of the car, under the mats, under the seats. I checked around the driveway where we park. Nothing, nothing, nothing and nothing.

I don’t think I’ve ever really delved into the details of my spiritual beliefs other than what I have in the title of this blog and the two tabs about the beliefs of a deist and UU. Not to get into a long treatise about it but I will say part of my spiritual practice includes prayer  — and not like praying to win the lottery or praying for the healing of a loved one. Just prayers of thanks is mostly what I have in my bag of prayers.

But that night, as Emmie fell asleep and I lay there in the dark…    against everything I believe about prayer, I prayed my ass off  that my ring would somehow make its way back to me. I prayed that I would relive in my dreams the events of when I put it away.  I begged my memory not to fail me any longer and give me even the slightest hint where it might be. I rolled over and touched Emmie’s hand where she wears her ring and fell asleep.

The next day when I got back home from work, Emmie told me she found my guitar capo. It had been banging around in the dryer while she was doing our laundry. The night before I had been looking all over for it before heading off to band rehearsal but couldn’t find it. Then she said, “look what else I found.” And put my wedding ring in my hand.

I was stunned. All I could do was hug her. And believe it or not, I cried. I was so happy to have it again. And in a really sweet, whispering, sort of lilting way she said, “you have your magic ring back.”

She said it must have been in my shirt. I don’t know. I swear I checked every pocket I had twice. Who knows, maybe it was in my shirt pocket or maybe it fell into the cuff of my pants leg.

The Deist's wedding ring with inscription that reads "my friend who is next to me"

I’ve called it my magic ring for a while saying it keeps me and The Deistette connected. I usually say it within ear shot of my stepson but being 7 years old he’s getting to an age where he doesn’t really believe in magic anymore.  The tooth fairy, Easter bunny and Santa Claus have kinda had their day for him.

I don’t know.

What I do know is one day I didn’t have my magic ring and now I do. Maybe there is something to that prayer thing after all — or maybe my ring is magic and keeps me and my wife connected after all.

regret

I wrote about one of my dearest, bestest friends of my life after she got married. She is a wonderful, beautiful, caring sweet woman and I’m certain she is one of my soulmates.

She and her husband were married in May of last year and they got pregnant in mid-January. Although both, in their early 40′s, they knew trying to have a baby at this age might pose some risks and have its challenges.

But she wants a baby. She wants a baby so bad.

About eight years ago, she half jokingly asked if I would help her have a baby. I told her there was no way that was gonna happen. First of all I was married and secondly if there was a baby comin’ it was gonna be made the old fashioned way and I didn’t see that happening… AT ALL!

I told my wife (my wife at that time) about the conversation we’d had where Paula had made this ridiculous suggestion and my wife said it wasn’t so ridiculous at all. My wife, was an amazing person. She was surprisingly supportive of the idea and said if that was something we could give her (“we” because it would certainly need her support as well) that we should do that for her.

Well, we didn’t. I thought about it. I actually thought about having sex with my long-time best friend to try and have a baby with her but I just… couldn’t.

Anyway… She had boyfriends along the way and a couple who even talked of marriage but nothing until last year.

[sigh]

I talked to her this morning on the way to work. We don’t talk much anymore because she lives in New Braunfels, Tx and she’s married and life has just taken over. We used to have a standing “date”. Dinner every Tuesday to catch up but we barely talk but once every month or two now.

After a few minutes of catching up I asked how the baby making business was coming along. I thought to myself she should be about four months or so now.

[Paula serious in a serious whisper] “Jules.”
[slight pause]
“um… yeah.”
[Paula's voice cracks a little] “I miscarried”

The pain in her voice was so real it hurt me to my core. She said they were going to try again soon but she’s realistic and believes she won’t be able to carry a baby to term. She doesn’t think she’ll ever know what it’s like to have “her” baby inside “her” belly.

I sometimes wish I would have given her that baby eight years ago.

another wedding

My best friend… my closest, dearest very best friend got married recently. It was bitter sweet.

I have known her for almost 23 years. That fact alone is amazing to me.

I met her when she was 17… just a girl. She was a senior in high school and I, a freshman in college. She had come up to visit her brother who I knew through the music department and I was smitten at first sight.

Apparently she was, too. We were inseparable when she came to school the next fall. For three years we were together. At different times in those three years, we were in the band together although she was not a music major. We worked together although i was not a very good waiter. And we lived together for a year… neither one of us very good at compromise. Children playing house we were.

She transferred to Texas A&M and we kept a long distance relationship, talking of marriage and were making plans for the future. We mad God laugh.

Photos – sunflowers

I’ve been meaning to keep posting these but as I looked at all the negs I found I kept thinking,

“meh, this one sucks”

“oh yeah, i remember taking these. yep, they suck, too.”

“Oooh… and this set of pics. hello… suuuuhhhh-ck.”

I heard or read someone say recently, “perfection is death. Perfection is death to art.”

So here are a couple that i never printed but always liked. Didn’t print ‘em because they were so flat. Very weak to no contrast. Probably something in the development and not the exposure I’m thinking. I had to really tweak the heck out of ‘em in photoshop to get them to turn out at all.

i remember taking pics of my ex-wife in this field. Not my daughter’s mommy but my second wife. She had on a sunflower dress and it was blowing with the wind just like the sunflowers in the field. Her hair was long and blonde and blew in her face. I hadn’t thought of that in some time.

For some reason I can’t find that roll of negs. Wish I could. Glad I found these though.

sunflower images ©2000 rjz

on dreams and lost love (part 2)

Several months ago I saw a story about ABC news reporter Bob Woodruff.

He was the reporter who, along with his camera man, Bob Vogt, was severely injured by a roadside bomb in Iraq. He lay in a coma for a little more than a month. And as doctors and nurses worked to bring him back from his sleep, his wife of 17 years sat by his side holding out hope.

In an interview Bob gave to Larry King he said that when he came out of the coma the first thing he said to his wife, Lee was, “Honey, where’ve you been?” He said it as if she had been gone or left and he had been looking for her.

After hearing the interview and how his wife stood vigil over his bed, I wept. Day after day she would be by his side. She would talk to him, touch his face, tell him stories and hoped that somewhere in there her husband could hear her.

The recent dreams I’ve had of MyLove made think about the ordeal Bob and Lee went through and me and the surreal event of MyLove having left five years ago and being gone. I say surreal because it happened so fast… just within a month. Surreal because it just doesn’t seem like it could possibly happen to us.
My over active imagination had me confess to Lillet, my big sister, “What if I’m in a coma? What if I’m asleep? I mean things have happened to me that I would have never guessed or dreamed would happen to me. In a relatively short time frame, I’ve learned how to make music, I have traveled, I have become religious. Me!… religious. I have dated a Miss Texas contestant, my brother is a convicted felon and I do not have MyLove by my side.”

I continued saying, ” … am I in a coma? Is she holding vigil by my bed and are my dreams of her instances of where she’s almost getting through to me. Are my dreams her talking to me and telling me stories and touching my face. Am I in a Matrix-esque sort of virtual world right now?”

Somebody please wake me…. please wake me.

on dreams and lost love

Today, I woke up much earlier than I normally do. In fact, this is the fourth morning in a row this has happened. The fourth time my dream has been invaded by the same person. The fourth night that I have seen, one who I believe is one of my soulmates.

I don’t know why this is happening. I don’t know why five years after she left I still ache to see her and feel her touch. I miss her.

I don’t remember the dreams. I only remember her being in them. In them I feel as though I’m mute and can’t speak out to her. It feels as though I’m so close to reaching her but can’t.

Five years ago, as we were in the throws of our dying marriage and its last breaths being taken, I remember at the very end thinking I had exhausted every effort possible to convince her not to leave… even giving up my dignity, getting on my knees begging her not to leave… begging her. There was no convincing her to stay. She was resolute. I said everything I could except goodbye.

I never said goodbye.

[Deist gets out of bed and gets in the shower]

anon…

She will be the beneficiary of my soul lessons learned, my heartache and my humility. She will be adored, venerated, worshiped and can expect nothing less. I hold out for you, my love. I know you are out there. For that which I seek is causing me to seek. Anon, my love. Anon

soulmates…

I’ve always liked the idea of soulmates. I’ll admit it… i’ve bought into the idea. I like to believe there is someone out there who is absolutely perfect for me. I want to believe. I almost need to believe.Unfortunately there is nothing to base it on except my gut instinct… faith I guess you could call it and a myth invented by Plato… or at least attributed to him. I guess that’s not a bad thing considering the writer. I mean my man Plato was a pretty smart guy. But I was kinda hopin’ to find something to base this on in words that are considered by most a little more scriptural or canonical though (i.e. Quaran, The Bible, Torah, Vedic Scripture, etc).

But despite my half ass efforts towards a little internet research, I could find nothing that indicated that any of the Abrahamic religions speak to this nor do any of the eastern philosphies or the earth centered traditions.

New-ager types, neuvo-reincarnato/recycled souls apologetics and the like embrace the idea (groups whose ideas I tend to align myself with) but I haven’t been able to find any attribution to any of the older sacred texts that mention the concept of a twin flame or soul mate.

So why not just go with my gut. It keeps me alive. It tells me when I’m hungry. Gives me a flight or fight feeling. My gut’s given me the right intuition so far and kept me alive. And the idea of my twin flame being out there somewhere helps me to keep on, keepin on.

Alright, there we go. Soulmates… [check in the box under the yes column]

Peace y’all.

[Deist looks over his shoulder... thinks to himself "nope... haven't found her yet. But she's got to be around here somewhere."]