Are you reading my mind?

This story took place on May 29th, 2009

As part of my job I am responsible for organizing an event at the Minnesota State Fair on what is designated as “Senior Day”. The event is a health promotion/exercise event geared towards the senior population. We hand out t-shirts and goodie bags to the first 1,000 participants, do an exercise demonstration on stage, and we also hire a band for entertainment. Last year I hired Hank and his band to play. Hank plays the accordion and knows all kinds of old timey songs that the old farts love. It was great, and Hank was a total hit.

The State Fair is fast approaching and I had discussed with my manager hiring Hank again for our event at this year’s fair. We both agreed that it worked out great last year and that I were to contact Hank and make sure he was available on the date of our event. On Thursday, May 28th I pulled out my files from last year and had found about 10 copies of Hank’s business card in my folder. I looked it over, smiling, as he has a funny helmet sort of haircut and he is holding an accordion. It’s a bit humorous to say the least. It was nearing the end of my day and I decided I wasn’t really in the mood to give Hank a call. I set his business card on my desk so that I would remember to call him on Friday.

On Friday morning I showed his card to my newer co-worker, Debbie. We both giggled a bit about the haircut and I told her jokingly how I should hit Hank up for accordion lessons because I really want to learn how to play. We then talked about music for a bit and after a few minutes we eventually both got back to work. I put Hanks card back down on my desk and told myself I would call him after lunch. About 3 hours later, shortly after lunch, my phone rang. I knew instantly who it was. The person on the line in a boastful voice said, “Adrea, Hi, it’s Hank!” I blurted out, “Hank are you reading my mind?!” and we both just started laughing. I then began to tell him how I was just talking of him earlier in the day and had it on my to do list to call him this afternoon. I told him how I was telling my co-worker that maybe I should hit him up for accordion lessons. He then began to tell me that he used to teach accordion lessons while he was in high school and that he learned to play the accordion when he was 7 years old. I haven’t talked to Hank since the end of August 2008; what are the odds that he calls me on the very same day that I had already planned to call him? That one blew me away. Maybe Hank was reading my mind.

Love,
Adrea

 

Some people’s trash

In my mid twenties I found a bunch of magazines from the 1940s at Half Priced Books. My step-dad is great at building things, so I wrote down some dimensions and asked if he would build me a tv stand so that I could decoupage it with images from the magazines that I found. I worked on my little decoupage project in my parents garage for a couple of weekends. I remember that I quite enjoyed it. I’ve always been an artsy/crafty girl and would spend hours upon hours making things when I was a child; that is what us introverts do. After giving up on being an art major after 3 years at the U of MN, I always tried to find time and ways to incorporate some creativity in my life. I will admit that these past several years time and money have been hard to make it a huge priority but I’ve had a huge surge of creative energy in me lately (since Warren’s death) and I realize I greatly need to make more time for my artistic outlets. One day at work recently, I had an idea to decoupage the table that I have in the porch. It’s a small round table I got from Marisa years ago, whom I think got it from Sarah. I thought to myself in that moment how fun it would be to decopauge that table in images similar to my tv stand and that I would try to go to Half Priced Books after work or over the weekend to see if I could find some more old magazines again.

On my way home from work I pulled into the alley way from 36th Street. Being it was a very nice day out I decided to take Jasper to the Minnehaha dog park. I ran in the house, changed my clothes, grabbed Jasper, and we jumped into the car. The dog park is on Hiawatha and 54th, so when we go there I exit the alley way out to 37th Street. As I get to the end of the alley, I was a little taken back by what I saw.

There is an old house at the end of the alley that was owned by a very old man who either recently died or was put into a nursing home. He was quite the pack rat as there has been someone at the house cleaning it out with a dumpster in the backyard for the past two months, often with many items placed behind the garage for garbage pickup. On this particular day there was nothing but stacks upon stacks of old news papers and magazines all neatly tied with twine lined up against the whole length of the garage. I quickly parked the car and hopped out to check them out and to my amazement many of the magazines were from the 30’s, 40’s and 50’s, exactly the type of magazines I was thinking about earlier at work. I threw about 4 bundles of them into the trunk of my car feeing pretty smug with my find. Some would call that the Law of Attraction. I’m not sure what to call it, but it’s pretty cool regardless. I started my decoupage project and it has inspired me to do a whole series of decoupaged furniture. I always knew life works in mysterious ways. I am learning that life does give us the things we ask for but not exactly in the way we were expecting, but when I am given what I ask for it always exceeds my expectations. Also, I love when I find treasures in someone else’s trash.

xoxo,
Adrea
Gabe’s request:

teevee stand that I did in my mid twenties

current decoupage project

 

I was just thinking of you

Marna used to sit at the cube across from me at work. She is older than me by over 10 years, is married and has kids, but we still made a close bond. She was always very sweet to me and made sure to check in with me often to see what was new and how I was doing. Last summer her father who had been diagnosed with dementia, rapidly started to deteriorate, and eventually toward the end of the summer he passed away. Marna had a very close bond with her father and I know that it was an extremely painful thing for her to go through. Often times a life changing event such as the death of a loved one causes us to reevaluate our lives and to make other changes. Sometimes to move on from a painful expedience we need to move on to other things in life. A few moths after her fathers death, she took another job as an executive director of a nonprofit. I was happy for her but very sad to see her go. I remember when one of us was having a bad day, Marna would draw a silly little face on a post-it note, crumple it up, and throw it at me. My cube is now decorated with her little post-it note drawings. They make me smile, and they remind me of my friend, Marna.

One Monday about the third week of May, 2009, Marna randomly popped into my head while I was working. I thought to myself that it had been awhile since we had been in touch. In fact, I think I hadn’t conversed with her (via email) since I found out I got into graduate school, which was back in February. Marna had gladly agreed to be one of my recommendations for my graduate school application and wrote a very nice letter of recommendation on my behalf. Being it had been so long since I had last spoken to her, I thought to myself that I needed to email her, see how she was doing, and what she has been up to. Quickly after I had the thought I got side tracked with work, forgot to write her the email, and went home. A day passed and I still forgot to email her, then on the following day, I opened my work email to see that Marna had emailed me. I find the little connections like that give me something to smile about.

 

Communicating Beyond the Grave

May 6th, 2009

My cat went missing Sunday night. He loves to go outside and he was out for most of the day. Warren was very demanding and stubborn, and always wanted his way. When I temporarily moved into my mom’s house, he figured out how to use the pet door day two that we lived there. So we made a deal when I bought this house, that he were to come home every night, and to try to stay out of trouble, and in return I would let him outside to see the world when he wanted to. When he was naughty and stayed out too late or came home injured, he got cooped up in the house for a few days to a week, and it made him depressed, miserable, and very angry. In fact, it made him a pain in the ass to be around. I always wanted him to live his life the way he wanted to. A life where he was able to enjoy the outdoors, the sun, the breeze on his face, the night time sky above him, and the joy of exploration. I don’t ever regret letting him live the life he wanted because I know he was truly happy.

I knew something was wrong when he still didn’t come home early Monday morning. But I wanted to give him one more day before I panicked. Monday evening I could have sworn I heard his meow while folding laundry in the basement, I quickly ran upstairs to open the back door but to my surprise he was not there. Sure enough Tuesday, still no Warren. I missed him immensely already. Tuesday at work I made really nice fliers, and then I posted them around the neighborhood when I got off work. I knew Tuesday night that he wasn’t ever coming home, but I needed to know what happened to him. I needed closure.

I called for him Tuesday night just before bed, even though I knew in my heart he wasn’t out there. I am going to miss calling him home every night. Yelling, “Warren, Warren”. I had a horrific dream at about 4am on Tuesday night. I dreamt that I was in the living room playing with Jasper. Everything looked like it did in reality, not a thing was out of place. I heard a scratchy meow that was Warren’s at the back door. I ran to the door so elated that he finally made it home and let him in. Next thing I knew we were in the living room and I was about to hug and kiss him all over but as I looked at him he was all mangled, bloody, and his right eye was bulging out of the socket. I started to cry and scream, “Oh my god, Warren what has somebody done to you?! Who would do this to my baby?!” Soon after, I woke up. I had a hard time falling back to sleep. I couldn’t get rid of this yucky feeling that something horrible had happened to him. Plus the dream was so real, so vivid, it sort of creeped me out.

While at work Wednesday I couldn’t give up searching for him. I called the Animal Humane Society, left emails with a few local rescue shelters, and then I went to craigslist, which oddly enough was something I never thought to do the first 2 days he was missing. First I looked through the lost and found postings but I didn’t see anything. I posted his info and hoped all day I would hear from someone, but something kept telling me to keep looking. Sure enough at 4pm I found a post from early Monday morning that said:

“Cat Hit on Cedar Ave
I hit a cat Sunday night about 11:45 pm on my way home from work. He/she ran right in front of my car on Cedar about 36th St. He is fairly large, with a ginger/orange multi-color and striped tail, but no collar. I’m sorry to tell you he died right away. I stopped and picked him up; I will keep him for a short time if you want to take him home to bury in your yard.
I feel horrible about hitting this cat. I’m very sorry.”

I knew instantly that this was Warren and I immediately began to sob. I emailed the person back hoping they would call me right away. About 5:30 she did. I rushed over to identify him, and prepared to take him home if indeed it was him. The second she pulled back the blanket she had him wrapped in to reveal his dead body I knew it was him. I wanted to scream as I looked at him because he was all mangled, bloody, and his right eye was bulging out of the socket; he looked exactly like he had in my dream. But I sort of sighed with relief because I now know what happened to my baby and I can bring him home where he belongs and put him to rest, I think that is what he wanted. I will bury him tomorrow in the backyard with the help of my stepdad.

I know with all certainty that Warren was trying to communicate with me through that dream. He was trying to tell me not to give up, that if I kept looking, I would eventually find him and be able to bring him home. You are home now my little munchkin, may you now rest in peace.