My eccentric friend Laurie has told me many stories of her experiences with strange things. Here is one that involved her beloved grandmother. Laurie (which by the way is not her real name) did not have a good childhood. Laurie's mother was a very cruel woman who on paper sounds like a Disney villain. Cruella Deville would constantly physically and emotionally abuse my friend and gloried in anything that caused her pain.
Laurie would tell me that her mother would ask her constantly "Why did she have to have such a fat ugly daughter". My friend being a smart-arse from birth would reply "Why did I have to born to mother who would say such a thing to her fat ugly daughter?" Laurie told me that her mother will never die because Heaven doesn't want her and the devil would think it was a hostile take over. Awwhhh... Family the ties that bound and gag...
Laurie's mother was prone to send Laurie away when the bruises got too prominent and she would send Laurie to her grandmother's house for an extended stays. If you're wondering why the police were not called it was because this was in the days when Child protective services were not in full force and abuse was viewed as a family problem not a police problem in rural small town Texas.
Laurie's grandmother was full blooded Choctaw Indian and she believed that all things have a spirit that should be respected and loved. Laurie loved her grandmother very much and looked forward to spending time with her snapping peas on her front porch to hear her stories. This same grandmother taught her to play poker just in case she ever needed money, what a gal.
When Laurie was barely eleven or twelve years old her grandmother passed away. It was the middle of winter in Texas, which means you probably needed only a sweater to stand the "chilly weather". However Laurie was missing her grandmother and looking out of a window at her house. She silently asked her grandmother if she missed her. Laurie looked out into the yard at the rose-less rose bushes that were there in the front yard. Laurie has always told me like this "A yellow rose bloomed in the middle of the rosebush and stayed that way for a minute before falling away petal by petal". It was winter people. Roses do not grow in winter and certainly not in front of you! Laurie's grandmother sent her a message of hope that she has carried with her for over thirty years.
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