(Monday, July 11, 2016)
I own, or am living in, my parents’ small Fridley rambler, the house I grew up in. This makes me sad. Childhood in that place was filled with violence, drunkenness and neglect.
The floor plan is open, which is different than the actual house. The kitchen windows are covered with cheap, ruffled yellow percale curtains, a style common to the early part of the last century. I think Alea will be horrified at such tasteless decor.
An inner understanding grows. This place is the connecting point for the true nature of my family, not their dysfunctional, pain-filled personalities. And I can reconnect with Boots, my beloved tuxedo cat who passed many years ago. At this point Chris appears to me in his glittering energy body. It seems he has died, and I begin to experience fear of his ghost. But I remind myself that this energy body is the same one he possessed while his physical body was living, so there is no need to be frightened.
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