Let me begin with my childhood. My parents (step-parents) were different also. They were much older than the usual parents. I believe they purchased me to save their marriage. I guess it worked, sort of. I dearly loved them both and they certainly loved me. When I came into the family, my mother had a son who was in Korea as a supply Sgt. in the army. Billy was not thrilled to have a baby sister. My fathers son Jack Jr. was in the Air-Force when he died. He was a B-52 flight instructor and had been tragically killed by a student over Lubbock Texas. He stayed with the plane to prevent its crash into a school. (More about him later)

My father had a history that included fighting Pancho Villa with the Mexican Border Patrol. He was a mine foreman in Williamson County during the bloody Williamsons, owned the first Model A in his hometown and was maybe a bit too attractive to and attracted to women. He was an incredible man. Tall, handsome, understated and very much a ladies man. He was the epitome of Kenny Rogers and Kris Kristofferson songs like the gambler or Silver-tongued Devil. He was in his own way a southern gentleman, chivalrous, honest and totally untrustworthy. Growing up he gave the most exciting swing rides in the neighborhood and did not mind that I was a tomboy although he loved to show me off in ribbons and lace.

My mothers family escaped from Lithuania when she was a child. Her father came first and it took many weeks. Her mother and the five children went next, crawling through ditches and bribing border guards, and it only took only a few weeks to arrive in Ansonia Ct. My mother was a mystic. Funny how I never realized that as I was growing up, too much exposure to the word for me to notice I guess. My mother was a red headed Pentecostal Catholic Rosicrutian Hunky who lived in Chicago and actually knew Al Capone through her brother who was a fed working undercover as a Capone man.

Ah, the stories in that family. I wish I had paid more attention at the time and talked to them about their past. You do not realize what you miss by staying in the now. Listen up kiddies. TALK to your parents and grandparents. Do not get left with only the outlines. They may be old now but what did they do when they were younger?

Anyhow, I grew up in a smallish town, Mt. Vernon Illinois, sometimes called Mousetown. In those days it was a perfect town for growing up. There were hills to tumble on, trees to climb, brooks and woods to play in. Plenty of places to be alone or to play games with others. There were no backyard fences and everyone looked after the kids as they drifted through the neighborhood from back yard to backyard. Of course, the best and most tempting places were technically off limits. Yeah right. Some things never change. Rules were as ignored then as they are now. Turn your back and the kids are gone. The difference then was that no one panicked because they always assumed that we were with friends around the corner and that someone elses mom was watching us. The bogeyman was not as much a menace then as he is now. Although he did exist, in one form or another, yes indeedy. I will skip my few encounters with human bogeymen but know that even then it paid to stay aware.

When I was a child I thought that everything was alive and full of spirit. When I raked the lawn I was combing Gods hair. My favorite quiet thing was to climb a tree on a windy day and press my ear to the trunk to listen to it talk to the wind. Soon I discovered that the wind and the trees can talk to us if we listen. It became important to memorize these moments, to impress them on my memory so that during the dry times, they would be there to sip on. Little gulps of faith.

As I said, my growing up was eclectic in religious views. I was "The littlest angel " at the Pentecostal church I attended on weekends. Coming home from school I would hold Jesus hand and sing "Shoo fly dont bother me cause I belong to somebody." This was totally real to me. At night my mother would sit and talk to me about her Rosicrutian lessons on how to see auras, how to heal, philosophy, clearing vibrations, illumination and the like.

When sleep came my dreams would take me to a beautiful cave where I could talk to my brother Jr., the pilot I mentioned before. We were meant to be together and death was out of sync. I died right after and our birth times are again somewhat out of sync. He kept visiting in my dreams till he was born and when he was older he appeared in spirit, much to the distress of my baby sitters, and finally in person.

Some nights my grandmother would come to get me and teach me things for later use. Years later I found my mothers dream book in which her mother came to get me and teach me things while she sat in the kitchen drinking coffee and waiting for her to return me to my bed. By the way, it was the same bed Gramma Kate died in. I lived in one of the two haunted house in our neighborhood. Mousetown has more than its share. Steven King would love it there.

In addition to all of this we had regular visits from Father Burke, the local Catholic priest and Sister Joanne a wonderful Lithuanian nun who ran the local hospital. We never missed "The Hour of St. Francis " on the radio. I grew up to respect the rosary and the crucifix. Just to make it more interesting, through this all I was convinced that I was an indian and in the wrong place.

When I was very young I did not realize that being able to heal the neighborhood pets and call feral animals was not something everyone could do. I also did not realize that my friends did not pick grape leaves to make offering pouches for the Gods, remember old spells in Latin or have serious respect for Egyptian deities. I was truly surprised to find this out, probably around the age of 6 or so. While I had good friends, these thing became something I did alone. Even then I did not want to confuse anyone. Or, I may have been holding something dear out of harms way.

I was 4 or 5 when I began to read palms and figure out the meaning of the witch cards hidden in my mothers junk drawer. It wasn't long before my mother became a bit worried about some of this and began to keep an eye on me. "Fortunately I did not realize this for years. " In spite of her studies she was still somewhat old country and believed that I might be a witch. Later this had a somewhat profound effect on me. You might say, identity crisis time.

By the time I was a teenager I had been through a few surprises. I found out that I was adopted and was of indian descent, Choctaw I found out much later. I finally met my birth mother, who is severely handicapped. I discovered that I had a brother, David, I did not know about and many other relatives.. I already knew about my sisters, Bobbie and Billie, but had not met them. My sister, Anna Marie and brother Ricky I knew about. Anna had been adopted by my "aunt" and raised in Chicago as my cousin. Ricky was adopted by my "brother" Bill, (note that those quotation marks around brother count for more than one bit of misery.) and raised down the street as my nephew. Anna I knew about from the beginning and visited periodically. Ricky and I were told when I was 12. It was not as big a surprise as one might have thought.

With my strange background, as you could almost expect, I was busily involved with being a witch during high school. It did not feel right, but hey, by then I had figured out that Mom thought I was a witch. I had a lovely black cat named Isis for a familiar and set about studying all of the LLewellyn series as well as some of my mothers more rare esoteric spell books. I began to use all of the things she had taught me consciously now instead of by instinct. There was no secret about my calling. I was even in the school news as the Mousetown witch. After a really bad experience with anger, retaliation and a nasty spell going awry I decided to stick to crystals, candles and healing. I also had a lesson in vanity and the Three Fold Law. BE NICE! HARM NONE! Lots of reasons for that besides karma or bounceback. Wisdom sometimes arrives late.

My parents died within 2 years of each other, I was 21 for Mom. She died in my arms while I sang her away. Dad died when I was 18. Both caused great pain, as would be expected. Mom always wanted to see me turn 21 and Dad 18. I think I will wish to see my greatest grandchildren.

Very soon after mother died I married and moved to Texas. Bad choice in husbands but Bill the "bad brother" and his wife DD had seen that now I was vulnerable and that I could now be easily disposed of. (and I was)

After a very unusual pregnancy involving a spirit who answered only to me and who levitated and possessed people and objects, caused no end of terror, and certainly gave some unusual memories to the Haltom City Hospital night crew, I gave birth to Sara of the glowing green eyes. For awhile you could see her easily in the dark by the two little glowing orbs. Another thing that gave the sitters willies. Sara has grown up now and is Buffalo Woman. She is well on her way to being a very enlightened, mystical young lady.

Before we are born we plan with others to come and be parents, guideposts, lovers and lessons. We know what we are getting into when we pick our lessons and accomplices. That includes the "bad guys" They choose to be "bad guys " to help the "good guys " learn their lessons. Look closely at the bums and crazies. Inside, their souls are as beautiful as yours and probably shining bright from the sacrifice of being an example or lesson in this life. These may not be lessons that we come into easily, for either part, and there may be some rebellion once the plan is in effect. It is possible that a doorway was opened by all of us to try to escape the coming "lesson. "

About this time, 1976, metaphysics began to be strongly heard from . Well, that sure felt better to me than witch so I classed myself as that, then there was New Age. Stuck with that one for quite awhile. Nothing quite fit though. In 1978 I had another daughter, Vadie, who has recently given me a grandson. From the time Sara was in 2nd grade we worked at a Ren Faire called Scarboro Faire. We were pagans for a good while. Or at least I was. maybe Sara, not Vadie. Vadie is not pagan at all. Vadie does not need to be anyone but Vadie. That girl is a walking power circuit. Look out when shes mad because all of the electric circuits are about to go crazy. Vadie thinks its normal. Hmmmm.

One of the things that drew me to paganism was that I have several good friends who are pagans. Then, there was my early interest in multiple deities. A sad thing to witness at Scarboro Faire is the difference between christians and pagans. Pagans help people, feed the hungry dance laugh and sing and are alive. The Xxxxxx convention christians criticize the hungry or demand that the laughing and singing be stopped at once. They have no joy. This is a really good drawing point for paganism. When you are hungry tired and dirty and a christian demands that you stop cluttering up the scenery , or if alms are begged he might "do his duty" and feed the worthless poor, while a pagan not only feeds you but plays a flute or sings to cheer you up while trying to fix you up. This does not apply to all christians or to all pagans but at ren festivals it seems very pronounced very visible and very sad.

You may consider us almost up to the present now. During the past years I have divorced my husband who is now in prison. "I didn't do it." I have experimented with theology of various types. I have read and studied and slowly closed myself away from honest natural childhood bits of power and wisdom. I have been a biker girl and had adventures. I have been a rennie. I have been a working mother and am now a grandmother to little Ian. I have met and handfasted with Jr. We finally found each other and have become raisers of wolves and flowering herbs. I have found myself and am still discovering more than I ever realized there was. My guideposts came through for me and the doors are opening.

Directory

Back to Main Page
Chapter 2 Some Beliefs
Chapter 3 Signposts
Chapter 4 Quantum Aspects
Chapter 5 Sweat Lodge
Chapter 6 Teachers and Shamen
Gods Dream/Alan Watts
New Additions
Quotes and Poems
Suggested Reading List
Book Reviews / Opinionated Mystic

***Continued in Chapter 2***

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