Too Late? Part 2

Cell memory – “a theory that states the brain is not the only organ that stores memories or personality traits, that memory as a process can form in other systems in the body and can be stored in organs such as the heart.”

As I grow older the idea that the cells of my body have stored occurrences and experiences that had a profound impact on me has grown.

What else could account for the deep sense of loss and pain that reoccurs even when life is ‘going good’? This happens to all of us – say on the anniversary of the passing of a loved one many years ago. Intellectually you might have come to terms with this passing, you might even have come to recognize that the pain and suffering your loved one was suffering has ended and they have moved on to a ‘better place’.

However, either approaching the anniversary of the death or what would have been the person’s birthday – you sense yourself going into what at first felt like an inexplicable place of sorrow. And then, “ah-ah,” you look at the calendar and realize why.

I have also come to believe that for each place of brokenness inside of me (and you) that memory calls onto itself an event or a series of event for the sake of healing. The energy within me attracts what it ‘knows’ my soul needs, even when I think “all is well.”

October is a month of trauma and tragedy for me and every year something happens to remind me of those places of brokenness in my life that are awaiting attention. Life is so amazing that if you do not get the message, it will send it to someone in your inner circle causing a mirror to be held up to you.

I did not think about my pursuer in this way until on my drive to work this morning. “Why now?” I asked myself. “Why doesn’t she just leave me alone?”

My annoyance grew as I recalled opening the new email from her and the sting of her words zapped me in the face. The first thing was her calling me Mrs. McLaughlin. Why the hell that bothered me is still a mystery but coming out of her virtual mouth did.

Then she wanted to explain some of what happened as maybe then I would not hold such a beef against her.

“Really now?” I thought. “Now you want to explain, I don’t think so!”

For some reason she sent two emails this time, something about being kicked of the computer. She should have left it at one. The second email confirmed that patience is a virtue that I still need some lessons on.

“Let’s just forgive and forget about the past,” she wrote and then went into a bi-polar routine and said that I was full of anger still and that is not good for my health.

The late Bernie Mac had this line he would use in his television show, “America…let me tell…” Well, to paraphrase, people…let me tell you…the words coming out of my mouth was not becoming of the professional woman that I am. “What the f… she cares about my health! She hasn’t concerned herself with me when I needed help, and now she is? !@^%”

Then again, look at where I work; what other words could come out of my mouth when told that after being abandoned and forgotten with nary a word from her for this long I should “calm down?”

Who the heck is she to decide what emotions I should be experiencing at her appearance in my life, providential or not, demanding room in my personal space?

Calm enough I was to know that that was not the time to reply to her latest emails. So off to bed I went and the face appeared in my dream again. This happens every October, almost every night for the month. My daughter also had a not so pleasant experience about this time of the year. And it was in October that my life almost came to an end.

I believe it was also an October that I prepared my Memorial Service several years ago. The entire service was planned, music chosen and the programme printed. My daughter teased me when it was done that she will have nothing to do but plug the removable disk into a computer and let it run come that time.

One of the other songs I chose for my Memorial Service was “I Just Can’t Give Up Now” and it is one of the songs that helped to bring me back from the brink of death one October not too long ago.

Which brings me back to cellular memory. My body is talking to me again – another October is here – as this woman attempts to re-enter my life. It seems to be saying to me that I can choose whether the healing will take longer and be harder.

Or I could dial the telephone number she included in her second email.

“All I want is for us to be reunited and start communicating in a more friendly manner and not like we are enemies,” she closed.

All I, Claudette Esterine-McLaughlin, want is more time to feel these emotions that have surfaced for another October and think this through some more…

Maybe I will drop her a line…tomorrow.