FIRST AND SECOND TRIP TO HEAVEN

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We are all butterflies. Earth is our chrysalis. We follow the fragrance from flower to flower on the Path of Eternity. Unknown

I was returning home after running away in July of 1961 at age 15. My abusive father had driven me away. My father seemed to delight in treating me like an uncontrollable wild animal that needed to be broken. I will not go into detail on this matter at this time.

I did run away to Oregon, to avoid anymore beatings. I did not want to grow up to be like my mother. She suffered from the beatings at least once a week. She was a good Catholic woman and would never think of divorce. No one in our extended family or anyone else knew what Daddy was like until after Mom's death.

I became homesick after about a year. I remembered the Christmas celebrations with my family which I missed the most during the fourteen or so months I had been away. Watching my younger siblings open their gifts on Christmas Eve was a highlight of the year. My mind dwelt in that happy time until the bus stopped in Boise, Idaho. I could not get another bus to my small home town until the next morning. I did not know Boise well so I decided to spend the night in a hotel across the street from the Greyhound station. In Oregon I had a social security card with that name so I used that to register.

The hotel was old and smelled of a musty old locker room of old dirty socks and sweaty high top gym shoes. The room had an old spring medal bed that squeaked when I sat down. A simple porcelain sink faced me from the opposite wall. The bathroom was several doors down the hall with an old fashion tub and toilet which smelled of many years of use. The bath tub had ring stains of many shades of yellow to brown, like the rings of a cut tree. The hot water was a blessing to my less than feminine smelling self. Riding a bus from the center of Oregon to Boise left me feeling grubby.

The old wood floor made eerie sounds and squeaks on my way back to the hotel room. I simply pulled my half-slip up to cover my torso and I collapsed into bed. My dreams were strange when suddenly the door to the room flew in and I dreamed I saw a monster appeared in the doorway and pounced on me flailing his fists at my face and body. A strange strange tattoo covered his fist. Was I being wrapped in a White Light? I could not move as I faded away into oblivion with flashes of lightening seeming to fly everywhere.

I was moving through a void toward a brilliant light filled with love. I wanted to be in that light more than I had ever wanted anything before. The vibrational pull was so powerful. I joyfully allowed it to pull me. This was familiar, but from where? Did this happen to me before? It seems I was looking back.

Then I felt myself floating above watching a white 1950 Ford which began to run over a doll's head. My mother pulled the rag doll as its body spun around in her grip as she pulled the doll free of the tire just before the tire rolled completely over its head. At the moment I was soaring away through a void with people all around. They too were soaring with me. Some were faster and some slower. The brilliant light had a magnetic pull on me and I relaxed in that sweet tenderness. I had the coziest feeling I had ever experienced, even from the times my mother would hold me. The light: Oh there is the light.

I came face to face with a child who seemed to be about my age and we were playing Ring-Around-The-Rosie and she laughed with me. Then the girl said, "Do you know who I am?"

"No! But I know you from somewhere. Who are you?" I asked laughing. The joy was only as a child can experience. She took my right hand and said walk with me. I giggled with enthusiasm. I was ready to play all day.

"I am Bernie, your aunt. Come on walk with me. Hold my hand." Giggling and skipping among swirl of aromas of flowers, spices and the smell of fresh rain mixed with snowflakes. My sensory self was enjoying the most spectacular array of music, smells, feelings, and all pouring through a maze of light dancing around us. Two years ago, Blackie my little cocker Spaniel had eaten some poisoned meat a man had been throwing into people's yards with dogs. Blackie came up to me and ran around me barking and showing his delight of seeing me again. We played together and I picked him up and cuddled him.

"Oh, I remember now. Bernie, you died before I was born. How did you die?" I asked as we giggled and laughed together.

"I fell into the cow's water-trough and drowned. It was my time to come here."

Giggling I inquired haphazardly "Where are you? What is this place"?

She did not answer my question. We were skipping hand in hand when I felt my mother's hands on me. Then both hands were under my arm pits and she was saying, `keep walking with me. Pick up your feet and walk'.

Blackie began to fade and I began to feel my legs walking but very unsteadily. I looked at my hand Bernie was holding and my palm was all red. Was I looking through her hand?

I felt her holding my hand all the way back to our house. The automobile accident happened just a quarter of a mile from our house. Bernie said "that doll you saw was you. You will be alright now. Good, keep walking you are doing better now" as she began to fade from my view.

I was back in my body as Mom was helping me back to our house. I wanted to go back to the light. It did not hurt there. The memory of my returning to my body stirred something within my being that brought me back. It was as if I just popped into my body through my head with a jolt.

Mom sat me in a chair as she cranked the wall-phone to call the doctor. My father came out of the bedroom asking what was going on.

I could still feel Bernie holding my hand. Then I remember sitting on my mom's lap as Daddy drove the pickup into town to the doctor's office. I was a mere six years old. "Bernie, hold my hand." Her hand was becoming lighter, fainter.

Mom bent down to my ear and asked me in a whisper, "Who are you talking to".

"Bernie, you know, your sister who died in the cow's trough" I said nonchalantly. I could feel no pain. I believed somehow Bernadette helped me be pain free.

Mom said "I never told you how Bernie died". I somehow knew her words were true. I suppose Grandma wanted to spare us grandchildren about the details of her death. Then, for a moment I had a vision of grandma crying and whaling over the death of her baby at the funeral. Grandma was so sad. I felt like holding grandma tight to sooth her grief.

I came home with a bandage around my right knee and lower leg and a cap bandage on my head. We visited grandma and grandpa later that day and I hugged grandma and told her Bernie was happy and how she played with me and held my hand. Grandma cried and I hugged her again and she just smiled and held me tight. Grandma then went to her bedroom and closed the door. Mom told me I had a piece of my scalp missing but it will grow back. When I was older I learned that a portion of the skin about 3 inches in diameter was missing and they could see my scalp.

"Where am I now? I feel sort of dizzy."

I was frolicking in the light of total love and was joined by a beautiful woman who made me think of the statue of Mary in our church. She told me it was not my time to be there and she turned me toward my limp body lying on the floor. I did not want to go so she gave me a loving, gentle push and I popped with a plunge as if into an ice cold lake through the top of my head. "Ouch" I said as I tried to focus.

I opened my eyes to a fuzzy U shaped thing nearly touching my nose. My vision began to clear and the U was hanging from a white face but there was no mouth. Where was the brilliant light I was soaring to? I was drowsy and began to realize it was not a face but was a cold white thing, but what was it? I began to move and pain racked my body. Why was I hurting so? Oh no! I was back again. No! No! No! I wanted to stay with the Light. The whole experience was so wonderful I never wanted to leave it. Why did I have to come back again?

I moved a little more and felt a groan gurgle from my throat. Puzzled I sat up and my back was against a hard medal bedstead with narrow spindles biting into my flesh. Oh! I had been under the sink. The bed had medal rods running up the foot board.

I pulled myself up and peered into the mirror above the white sink. Now I remember where I was; in the hotel room waiting for the bus. What was that in the mirror? A grotesque being with bloody matted hair and a twisted red blob. I looked down and saw my half-slip covered in blood. What happen? What was going on?

I made my way to the dim hallway through the open door. Down the hall I saw something bobbing up and down, was it a ball? No! It looked more like a head but where was the rest of the body? I began to limp toward the bobbing and a head popped up and it said, "Stop! Go back." the man behind the desk yelled. I knew I was not a pretty thing to see. Had I frightened him?

"Help me!" I finally said although my words were garbled. The pain was growing into agony.

The clerk seemed to take forever dialing the rotary phone. I bent over in pain and back tracked to my room as I felt the need to lie down before I fell down. I collapsed on the bed and drifted off into a welcome dream state.

"Miss, are you OK?" boomed the voice of a man shaking my shoulder.

Oh no! Why did he have to wake me up? The pain was beyond anything I had ever experienced, even worse than the pain from my dad when he would beat me with his belt buckle.

"Stop, it hurts!" I managed to say. There were two men dressed in white and a policeman around the bed. Soon I was on a cart being wheeled out of the room. The policeman was asking questions.

"Who did this to you young lady? How many were there?" the policeman asked several times. Did I know who they were? All I could remember was the spider web and teardrops.

"Spider web tattoo" is all I could say.

They slid me into a station wagon and the screaming of sirens hurt my ears as I moaned and cried. I could no longer hear what the men were asking. The noise seemed to stab me my head, face, nose, jaw, ribs and the rest of my body.

We finally stopped and they whisked me out of the wagon and I felt something jerk the cart. Lights were everywhere. I could no longer see the people around me, only spots from the lights. Again, the bliss of nothing enveloped me as I slipped into a stupor and beautiful lights.

I woke to a nurse in her crisp white dress and cap who was smoothing a sheet over me and pulled up a bed-rail. The pain was gone. I tried to speak but my mouth would not move. I reached up to my mouth and the nurse stopped my hand.

With a kind smile she said, "Don't touch your mouth dear. Your jaws are wired together. You have a broken lower jaw in two places. You must not disturb your jaw. You also have a broken nose with a gash that was big enough to put your finger through. Keep your hands away from the stitches."

All I knew was I was happy the pain was gone. She had mentioned something about bruised ribs but I was feeling good now.

"Here is your call light if you need anything. Don't try to get out of bed by yourself. You call me and I will help you. If you have pain I will give you another shot. Just be sure to use your call light." She left me in my wonderment of the surroundings. The walls were green just like the walls in the hospital when my little sister, Maggs had her appendix out in my home town when she was little.

I woke to a throbbing in my nose and jaw. The pulsing through my head was excruciating. I tried to sit up only to feel more pain in my ribs and abdomen.

"The call light: Where is the call light?", I thought. It was pinned to the sheet. I pushed the button as hard as I could, which created a crater in my thumb with sheer desperation. The nurse appeared in the door and came to my side "It hurts. Please help me, it hurts," I begged.

She nodded, "I will get you a shot now!" as she pried the call button from my fist. She was gone for what seemed like an hour. I know it was only a couple of minutes. This was to be a lesson I would remember later in life.

Again, I grabbed the call light just as she came through the door with my shot. "Oh help me nurse! Please." She pulled me over and I felt the needle bite my fanny. When would the pain go away? The agony was wrenching. The next thing I remember was my nurse waking me up for a bath. She washed my face very tenderly and I realized the pain was gone. I must have fallen asleep.

A detective came to my room a couple of times gathering information about my assailant. My only description was the tattoo I saw on his hand. They said they would continue to look for who did this to me but did not hold out much luck of finding him unless he was in the system and the tattoo was registered.

I told the detective I remember what the man said to me as he was beating me: "This will teach you not to leave me standing at the Justice of the Peace. You will never have a chance to do it again." From that the detective said he believed my assailant left me for dead. "So! It was just one big man!" With that he smiled at me and turned and left my room.

I guess the man did kill me as I was in heaven rollicking with Bernie again for a short time. I wished I was back there again.

I was soon graduated to a pain pill and a large antibiotic which I had to slide to the back of my teeth and into my mouth so I could swallow water to take the pills. I still remember the pain of this process. The pain was less frequent and I was discharged from the hospital on the third day. I had to spend all my money on a bottle of pain pills and antibiotics. What was I going to do?

Then I remembered I had met Pat in Oregon during Christmas, who worked in this town. I walked to her office. I needed to find someone who could help me call my mom. I needed money to finish my trip home.

Pat, a beautiful blond woman was helpful beyond what anyone would be expected to do. She let me use her office phone to call my mother. Mom was ecstatic to hear from me. My intention had been to return home and surprise her, but now I needed her help to get home. That afternoon mom wired the money to me. It was elk hunting season and I knew Dad would be gone hunting. I wanted to return while he was away. Pat took me home with her and I slept on her couch.

The next morning Pat drove me to the bus station. During the ride down home, I saw the mountains that looked like they had been sliced off leaving flat tops which I later learned were called mesas. The Snake River wound back and forth out my window. Fond memories of my childhood flooded back. We stopped in Twin Falls and the memory of when I was two years old took me back to the day mom took me to Twin Falls to the Polio Clinic. I believe we made the trip every week, until I was walking on my own again.

One particular day we all were out on the big lawn as big as a park. I was sitting on a blanket; others were on carts, wheelchairs and standing around with crutches and braces. From the street came a cowboy on a white horse. I recognized Hopalong Cassidy and his horse Topper.

I had seen them at the movies and here they were right now. We were excited children. Hoppy talked and road. Topper skipped the big rope loop. When the show was over, Hoppy invited us to come and shake his hand and pet Topper. I wanted to pet Topper but I could not walk. Suddenly someone from behind, picked me up and put me on his lap. He was around ten years old and he wheeled me right up to the chest of Topper. I reached up and pet him. He had the softest hair I had ever felt and I remember that feeling to this day. We had horses at home but their hair was not soft like Topper's. He was a special horse.

My thoughts came back to the present as the bus entered to my home town.

Mom was waiting for me at the bus station. She hugged me so hard my jaw hurt and I had tears in my eyes. She mistook them for tears of joy and I let her because it was partly true. Mom then took me on a long trip to visit Sister Loraine, where Sister hugged me so tight the pain was almost unbearable. Sister was a dear friend of our family. The nuns came from the St. Gertrude's Academy a Benedictine Convent and school in the middle of Idaho each summer for `Sister-School'. This was similar to vacation Bible School held in other churches. Looking back now I realized mom sent me to Catholic Boarding schools to get me away from my father. I ran away from home after the tenth grade at the St. Gertrude's. Having that time to learn to be on my own probably gave me the courage to leave home just two months after that semester ended.

Soon we were off to see relatives and friends who also hugged me until I had to take a pain pill. Mom finally realized I needed to be handled more gently to prevent the dislodging of my broken jaw. By night fall, when we arrived home I was exhausted and just wanted to sleep. Mom had cooked a stew and put some in the blender. Her home cooking was wonderful. I was happy to be home with my Mom. She made fresh juice from the vegetables in the garden. I learned then how wonderful juicing was. My brothers and sisters were home and all greeted me with vigor, except for my brother who was 2 years younger than me. He was a big boy and wasn't into hugging. Maggs whispered in my ear that she was so happy I was home. I must have cried a liter of tears of joy. It was so good to be home again. I fell asleep with tears of joy in my eyes that night.