childhood | Muted Palette

Not Stigmata Girl

Summers used to be made of an endless string of days separated by a few different markers: trips “up north” to the mall, bible school, mushroom hunting, girl scout camp, and days in Susie’s pool. The early weeks of summer would be spent in the woods mushroom hunting as much as possible, and then the weather would get hotter and we would sweat in the pews while singing “Father Abraham” for the fifth time and we would sweat some more in a tent in the middle of a farm surrounded by hundreds of girls. But in between and after those moments, there was always the mall and the pool.

Tales from the mall with your mom and sisters do not make for that exciting of a tale. (Although the mall with my dad and my sisters often made for memorable stories–aka “YOU JUST PISSED ON A MEMBER OF THE US ARMY!”)

But tales from the pool . . . those seem . . . equally as boring.

But back then, during those endless summers of my youth, something weird would happen. And to this day I cannot explain it. Except I know this happened.

We would go to the pool a few times a week before we got our own. We would stay in the pool for hours diving for rings and floating and having tea parties and playing 500 and swimming as fast as we could from our moms as they would say “PUBERTY!” to drive us away.

When we’d get out of the pool to take breaks, sometimes we would jump on the trampoline. Or go see the cows. Or, for us “big kids,” go for four-wheeler rides. I often leaned towards the four-wheeler.

Adam would drive. I don’t know if it’s because he was a boy or he was (7 months) older or it was his family’s four-wheeler (yup, that’s probably it), but we would go riding through the fields and down by the crick and back and back and back. And I would hold on and not fall off–at least as far as I would remember.

But something would happen.

No, it wasn’t the magic of summer love. Puh-lease. It was Adam and he was like my brother and I say that with utter and complete honesty.

No, what would happen was this: after we finished riding, after probably fifteen minutes (I can’t imagine it being much more than that), I would look down and see the running board covered in blood. Always. We’d have to take a hose and rinse it off.

The culprits were my toes. No cuts, no wounds, no blisters, no sores. But bleeding, apparently through the skin.

Now, one thing is certain: had the bible school I attended yearly been not a Presbyterian one but a catholic one I would have surely believed myself to be suffering from the stigmata. Fortunately, my catholic fascination phase did not hit until high school. I don’t think one could recover from being the “stigmata girl” in middle school. And like I needed any weirdness to add to my plate. Puh-lease.

So I would bleed from the tips of my toes as we darted through the fields, the hot air whipping against my toes that had been tenderized from hours in the pool. Right through the skin.

And we just washed it away and hopped back in the pool.

After all, it was summer.

Revisitation: Faith is Belief Therein

Originally published May 18th, 2002

Looking in your eyes, I see a paradise.
This world that I found is too good to be true.
Standing here beside, I want so much to give you this love in my heart that I’m feeling for you.
Let them say we’re crazy.
I don’t care about that.
Put your hand in my hand, baby, don’t ever look back.
Let the world around us just fall apart.
Baby, we can make it if we’re heart to heart.
And we can build this thing together, stand in stone forever, nothing’s gonna stop us now.
And if this world runs out of lovers we’ll still have each other.
Nothing’s gonna stop us, nothing’s gonna stop us now.
I’m so glad I found you, I’m not gonna lose you, whatever it takes to stay here with you.
Take it to the good times, see it through the bad times.
Whatever it takes is what I’m gonna do.
Let them say we’re crazy.
What do they know?
Put your arms around me, baby, don’t ever let go.
Let the world around us just fall apart.
Baby, we can make it if we’re heart to heart.
Oh, all that I need is you.
All that I ever need.
All that I want to do is hold you forever, forever and ever.

in kindergarten, i had this dream where i was at a school dance. it was a lot like prom…but i was in kindergarten. keep in mind this was about 1987…so i was all decked out in my 80’s garb and i was five years old…anyways, i am walking down this hallway with my arms full of books. and of course, i drop them….

this song was playing in the background of that dream. and as i began to pick up my books, this guy (or boy…rather) helps me pick them up…and the song plays on and we walk away hand in hand.

well, for some reason i have always thought that dream and that song mean something…will mean something.

i remember in 1st grade when i met a boy who i think was the boy from the dream at the young author’s conference…don’t remember where it was that year…but he was there, and we had orange pop from mcdonalds as a treat.

that’s my story.

maybe it means something.

(May 10th, 2012: 25 years of letting dreams and premonitions cock block me.)