California Journal

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The Mission San Jose

Karen and I were coming back from her speech therapy session...when out o the blue she suggested going to the mission where she had taken her first communion. Understanding as you must that Karen is a novice driver on her own. she promptly exited the freeway and there we were right were we needed to be...Fremont, California. The whole town seemed to be taking a nap and everything was at peace in God's world. we pulled into the parking lot and the school children all dressed in the blue and black uniforms scurried in a circle while playing at recess and the air was filled with laughter and happiness. Huge palm trees and century plants were everywhere and in the middle of all this was a mission, on of the oldest in California. I was in awe of the simplicity yet greatness of the style. It was totally white and clean with huge hand carved oak doors. As soon as you entered those huge doors, you were embraced by cool, clean air. Memories of Indians, and deity were everywhere. Hand made tapestry and stoneware; wool monk's robes and blankets; hand crafted ceremonial robes in the very tiniest of stitches made with yarn dyed in every color the rainbow could offer. Karen and I wandered around just in a trance. We were in the presence of artifacts and remains of a civilization over 200 years old and all the events which helped to create the California of today. After being founded in 1797, the grounds have survived earthquake and fire to flourish to the church it is today. It was truly sacred ground....

We moved on to the chapel and Karen noted no pictures could be taken there. I was sad about this because I wanted so to remember every detail. There was no need to be worried because every small and large detail continues to dance through my brain with such extreme accuracy. As we entered I was immediately drawn to the statue of the Patron Saint on the right hand wall. He was a small framed little guy with a cane and a red coat on. I reached up and touched his foot and rubbed it. A feeling of sadness came over me as I stood there and cried. Instead of feeling he was telling me some very urgent message, I felt compelled to look a him and assure him it would be alright. 'Everything will be alright.' I have never been through anything like this in my life and have absolutely no answer for it except it goes on. I called Karen over and ask her to look at his face. Did she feel or hear anything. she said, "No, but Pokie the message is for you not me." I must have stood there five or ten minutes just slowly rubbing his foot and looking into his eyes.

I turned to hug Karen and leave but once more drawn to an open Bible on a stand by the alter. I walked near it and started to read out loud the selection. The more I read the more upset I became but continued to read and sob..It was the story of the GOOD SAMARITAN and I was reading it in front of God with absolutely no control whatsoever. I turned to Karen and ask who the Patron Saint was and she answered, "Maybe Abraham, " and my answer was, "No, don't tell me Abraham." we touched the holy water and walked to the back of the church to an alter that had small bones from the saints embedded in the framework. I ran my fingers over each bone and remarked to Karen, "I think I could go quietly crazy in here." and we left.

That evening life went on as normal and Karen got on the net and researched the Patron Saints. This Patron Saint was St. Joseph, Patron Saint of the family. How fitting that he and I should become so close while I was adding such special members to my new family....pokie

My California Journal

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The above pictures are the view from my hotel room in Boulder, Colorado and the view from my brothers deck outside Loveland, Colorado. Oh those beautiful Colorado Rockies....

October 3, 2008 continued...

I politely paid cash for my room and went off just chattering away to my bell boy about grandmothers traveling by themselves and just how confused could they get...Let me tell you we were about to find out. Because I pad cash, I was in a glitch on the computer which threw out my phone service. As the day went on I could not call out and no one could get in touch with me. By five PM I was beside myself just setting at the desk praying someone would figure out where I was.

Then the most wonderful thing happened. There was a knock at the door and i was saved. Marian had found me and the bell hop was there to put her phone calls through. My head was splitting and my eyes were burning and i looked ugly in the mirror. I should take more time to look in the mirror but then probably would never look again. Where and when did the beauty of youth run away and hide....never to be seen again. So???

Ok, that's a little better. I fixed my hair and washed my face and reassessed the fact that I surely must have had a stroke sometime along the way and no one caught it or maybe this is a wilder disease than I already know I have, who knows anymore? By now it is 1AM Friday morning and as I set here looking out a the Colorado Rockies and the airport lights in the distance, I am once again reminded that my time is very limited, my experiences are many, and the pains I carry in my heart are very large. I can only say I have loved deeply and been hurt just as deeply and all is just fine now and for ever.

My Californina Journal

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October 3, 2008

At one AM I climbed into old Betsy, my much too banged up and abused Bonneville and headed for St. Louis Airport and my flight for Denver. By 3 AM I was driving around trying to figure out where to park. The Boeing Parking lot came up twice before I figured out how to get back on the main highway and get to extended parking. Once there and parked, the shuttle headed me for the terminal and Southwest Boarding. In an effort to be early, I was really early...my plane left at 7:30. Well that's me always trying to think ahead and being way too ahead. the baggage check didn't even open until 4:30 AM and so here I sat trying to look cool and collected when I was anything but with security cruising back and forth and the loud speaker continually saying report all suspicious or nervous persons immediately. I called my daughter at 6:30 to let her know I had cleared security and was promptly bumped into which caused me to drop my cell phone which caused me to drop my cell phone which fragmented into four rather unsightly pieces never to utter a word again. Ahha but they have phone cards and I thought I was fixed....WRONG!!!

When 7:30 roiled around I was more than ready to board the plane and get the best seat next to the window I could find. I was not prepared for what God was about to unfold in front of me. For the next two or more hours i was totally mesmerized by the view. There was not a cloud in the sky and every color and square of earth flowed perfectly into the next shape and hue. How could I have ever thought of making a quilt when perfection was lying before me? I could not had a more beautiful flight and beginning to a trip to a new life and the awakening o f a new soul.........

This is the day the stock market was in free fall and the buy out bill had not been signed and I was on the road..............., not knowing what confusion this would cause for me at every turn. the devil himself could not have laid a better plan to try and stop me. My first stop upon getting to Denver was to take a shuttle to get a car....WRONG!!! There must have been fifteen people lined up at the counter yelling they had to be here and they had to be there and how dare they deny them a car. What $250 would have got before now took a straight $500 and no if's and's or but's about it. Which sent me straight back to the terminal and headed for my hotel for plan #2. I board the shuttle and am set off at my hotel....WRONG...Wrong hotel , my hotel was in Boulder, Colorado instead of Denver , Colorado. I had to prove my confirmation for stay and they paid for me a taxi cab to the right hotel so at 1:19 PM I was assigned room 911 at the Westminster Hotel in Boulder, Colorado.....that's right room 911