A tale of prophecy & opinion of two cousins concerning love interest!
|Recent conversation with a shirt-tail cousin and remembering various conversations with a first cousin have really got me going!!!
Late last week, I looked on my Caller ID and found a call on there with the same area code as Uncle Kermit's and a name I didn't recognize. It scared me a little at first, because we had just buried Uncle Jim a week before, and--though in better health--Uncle Kermit isn't that much younger.
I relaxed a little when I realized that it wasn't a Bloomington prefix--and it suddenly dawned on me that it might just be someone connected with the Southern Indiana Poetry Club (though I didn't recognize the name, it might be the person in the house whose name the phone was under) who was concerned because I hadn't been active lately due to other directions I was going in.
It turned out to be a shirt-tail cousin with the gift of prophecy. She had gotten a message in the night to "Call Ainsley. She will be able to help you."
This concerned this person's wanting to find out more about her ancestry, and she had seen my name in the phone book and had thought she was calling my mother (also named Ainsley) who had grown up with her mother.
We began to talk, and she asked me if I'd ever been married. I told her that I hadn't.
I mentioned that this guy I'd become friends with back in 1990 and I had gotten together earlier this summer after having not seen each other in years but hadn't seen each other again since due to schedule conflicts.
That is when she made a very definite statement to me to stay connected to this guy, because he was the one I would marry--though not right away, because we both had things we needed to do first as single people.
She gave me a year that this would happen--plus gave me some other information.
She even described our wedding! This is the first time this cousin and I had ever talked on the phone, and she had no idea about what kind of wedding I'd prefer--but what she described was my dream wedding!!!
For now, she said, what the two of you need the most is to stay close to each other as friends. She described how we related to each other--and was accurate again!
I also mentioned to her--without giving any details about anything--that I had become romantically-interested in someone else several months ago, and she told me that he and I were meant to be good friends but that he was DEFINITELY not "the one."
I told her that this was good, because, if we ever got married, we'd probably end up killing each other!!!
Now, I believe in free-will, so it's not necessarily set-in-cement when it comes to this guy and myself. This woman was just picking up on the direction things were going if they continued as they did. This is my opinion, anyway. Anyway, she seemed to think that things were going in the right direction!!!
All I can say is that it sounds like a plan to me!!!
She told me to keep praying for guidance, and I'd get it--and to pay attention to my dreams, as dreams were often used by God to reveal His will and direction.
She said that something might be revealed to you in a dream that you won't understand at the time you dream it--but that you'll remember it later and know that it had been some kind of revelation.
I told her that I'd received a revelation about this guy a couple of years before I met him--but that I hadn't recognized it as such at the time.
This is the way that the revelation happened. I told her that I was going to change the name of the town and the person but she'd get the idea. I'm going to share it with you now.
In the early part of 1988, we went to Biloxi, Mississippi. At the time, I'd been using an Instamatic (TM) camera with 126 film. I had no idea how to operate a 35 mm camera at that time.
Several places I'd been writing for and/or wanted to write for were wanting writers to include b & w glossy prints to illustrate their works. This was especially true when it came to travel writing.
To make a long story short, I was starting to have trouble finding the film in Indiana and decided to see if I would have better luck in Mississippi. So, during some free time, I checked out a Winn-Dixie supermarket that I'd been told might still carry it--and was told by one of the clerks there that I'd better stock up, as the film-type was about to be discontinued, and they wouldn't be getting any more in.
I bought every roll that they had left--which was, as I recall, somewhere between five and ten rolls.
When we returned to Indiana, I decided that it would be wise to go on a film-hunt, so I took a road-trip for that purpose.
So far, I'd been able to find absolutely nothing in every film store in every town, and I was getting discouraged.
You might say that I was doubly-discouraged, because I'd also met someone who had so many of the qualities of Mr. Right-For-Me that I wished he could be--yet, I knew our lives were going in different directions and (beyond being good friends) never the twain would meet.
It was a rather gray day, and the combination of the general grayness of the day and the discouragement on those two counts was really starting to get to me.
There were things associated with the towns I'd already visited that kept reminding me of him, and I wanted to go somewhere else that had no ties to him--and, hopefully, find some film there, too.
It was getting late when I saw a road sign telling me that the town of Markleville (name has been changed--though there IS actually a small town here in Indiana by that name that I've been to more times than I can even count) was 25 miles away.
All at once, this thought went through my head: Make new memories in Markleville!
I headed towards this place, thinking that I was being told to go there because there would be rolls and rolls of the film that I was looking for.
Instead, I found a town that had beaten the chickens at going to bed.
I still wondered what that message in my head meant.
"Oh well!" I said to myself. "Maybe I'll come back here sometime when the streets aren't rolled up for the night!"
One thing that was open was Roslyn's Bakery.
This bakery (now out-of-business) was a chain bakery with locations all over Indiana--and who knows where else--so there wasn't anything so special about going to Markleville to eat something at Roslyn's Bakery.
Still, it was yummy and I was hungry, so I went in and chose whatever looked good to me at the time (Don't ask me what--probably, something containing strawberries, whipped cream, or both.).
I took the sweet to the car and ate it, still studying my surroundings. Seemed like a nice enough town--one worth going back to. Maybe, I would know what the message was all about one of these days--but, obviously, I had no clue at the moment.
In the next day or two, I would eventually find a shop in downtown Indianapolis that carried the kind of film I was looking for.
I was then ready to take photos to illustrate a couple of stories I happened to be working on at the time: twin towns (both called Union City) on the Indiana-Ohio State Line--and the State Line Road in general--for a magazine out of Huntington called Right Here, which covered features with Indiana connections; and the demise of drive-in theaters, which I wrote about in one of my Hodgepodge columns that I was then writing for The Greenwood Gazette.
Two years later, I would meet the guy I've been talking about, and his last name was Markle (or something like that)--and I would then remember the voice in my head telling me to make new memories in Markleville (or something like that)!!!
There have been other things, too. Someday, I'll share them with you, but I don't want to say too much, because there are two people to consider here, and I would like to talk it over with him first.
In the comment section, I'm going to be posting a couple of other stories I wrote. One of them is set in 1990 (when we first met), and the other one is set in this summer.
The first one contains a recipe. The second one, a movie review.
The following is how the other cousin I mentioned fits into the scheme of things:
Denise and I are first cousins, our mothers being sisters, and we're about 9 1/2 years apart in age.
Even though I'm the older of the two of us, Denise has always had this protective attitude towards me--especially, when it came to men!
It didn't matter whether or not I was serious about a particular guy. If we hung out together very much, Denise would generally find some sort of fault with him and tell me why I shouldn't even think of falling in love with said person--and, in several cases, why I shouldn't be hanging around with him.
When I was 14 1/2, and she had just turned five, my folks and I had gone to this Chinese restaurant that was owned by a family (as the majority of Chinese restaurants are) and had taken her along with us.
One of the family members, who was a few years older, was doing everything from hosting to busing tables, and we were flirting with each other.
Denise gave me a scolding and told me not to act so silly.
I think she might have liked my first high school sweetheart, Chad, but she still thought I was being silly when I giggled and went on about him.
She didn't have a lot bad to say about my senior year sweetheart, Gary.
However, there were a few days when Gary told me that he wouldn't be over, because he had some things that he'd been putting off getting done, since he'd been spending so much time with me.
Denise, almost nine, came out to visit me one of those days, and we did a lot of things together.
"This is the first time I've been out to visit you in a long time that Gary hasn't been around," she told me. "I like having you all to myself!"
She then suggested that we never get married when we grew up--just live together in a house or apartment with a bunch of cats.
Now, Denise didn't mind too much that her fifth grade teacher and I had become pretty close a few years later.
For one thing, Tom and I were more phone-buddies than anything. For another thing, if things got serious between us, she knew that Tom would be good to me. But the main thing was that she also knew it wasn't going to happen. He was a confirmed bachelor about 20 years older than I was--but not a player type of confirmed bachelor. He was basically married to his teaching career. I admitted to Denise that I was attracted to him--but then added that, to be honest, I actually thought he was more HER type.
I used to half-tease both of them that the reason Tom was such a confirmed bachelor for now was that he was just waiting for Denise to grow up--to which both of them replied, "Nah! No way!!!"
Her folks and I went to a country music show one time, and the steel guitarist for one of the performers began flirting with me after the show and asking me questions. I had just turned 21, and he was 28. I was single--and, as far as I knew, he was, too.
When he walked away to use the restroom or something, Denise hissed at me, "Quit talking to him! I don't like him!"
"Have you ever met him before?" I asked her.
"No, but I know his type! He's trying to pick you up."
"So? What's wrong with that?"
"You're so innocent! I don't mean that he wants to ask you out! I mean that he wants to take you onto the bus and S**** you!!!"
"Don't you think I would have something to say about that? It takes two to tango, you know!"
"Dammit!!! He'll R*** you!!!"
I told her that I thought that was highly unlikely. He was, after all, the steel guitarist for a well-known performer. I told her that I thought she was over-reacting.
She told me that this kind of stuff happened more than you might think among the showbiz crowd.
I told her that might be true of some sort of high-as-kites heavy-metal band and their groupies, but that this was good, clean, wholesome country music. I didn't think that this well-known musician would be choosing a pervert for his steel guitarist.
She told me that I was sooooooooooooo naive!!!
Soon, the steel-playing studmuffin returned on the scene, and we continued to flirt with each other while Denise kept hissing at me to cut it out.
I couldn't help but to laugh at the thought of this little sixth-grader being so protective of her college-age cousin.
"Ainsley Jo!" she hissed. "It's NOT funny!!!"
The next most memorable case of disapproval had to do with Herbie.
Now, I never was serious about Herbie. He was just a guy I'd met when we were both taking summer college classes. He was from Southern Indiana and had come to Indianapolis to study mortuary science. He wasn't a fulltime student at my college--had just decided to take a chemistry course that would help him to qualify to get into mortuary school that fall.
We had met in the Campus Cupboard--in fact, I thought at first that he was the boyfriend of a friend, as I'd come upon them engaged in a running conversation. I asked Jansy if this guy were a new boyfriend, and she told me "No way!"
Even though she was Caucasean, she had made up her mind that, if she ever married, it was going to be to a Chinese man--something that Herbie obviously wasn't.
Herbie began to talk about being homesick for some good home cooking--and I told him to come over to my place once in awhile, and I'd be glad to cook for him!!!
I was, at the time, smitten with a guy named Allen I'd met that summer (who was smitten with someone else), so I wasn't picking Herbie up. Just letting him know that he had a good friend and a good cook in me.
For some reason, Denise didn't like Herbie one bit--I mean she DETESTED the poor guy!!!
Now, Denise had always loved butterflies and the color purple--and she loved the color purple even more when she found out that it was also Donny Osmond's favorite color!!!
When she was very young (somewhere between five and seven), she was out shopping with her mother when she saw a beautiful butterfly pin on display somewhere.
I don't think she even thought she was doing anything wrong, as it probably looked to her as if it were free for the asking, just like these hard candies you see on counters here and there.
When her mother discovered later that she had it, she really got on her case and told her that she couldn't have a butterfly pin until she turned 13--and that, if she ever received one as a gift before then, it would be locked away from her until she was of that age.
She let most of us know what had happened so that we wouldn't be getting one for her. This might seem overdone, but Aunt Kate didn't want Denise to grow up thinking it was okay to steal.
One of Herbie's hobbies was to make jewelry, and I suggested that he make a butterfly pin for Denise for her thirteenth birthday--and to be sure and include a lot of purple in it. This would not only be a nice gift for her but it might help to change her mind about Herbie.
She told him very loudly that he could have his old butterfly pin and that she wanted nothing to do with him. She then flounced out of the room.
Herbie commented to me, "I hate to say anything bad about your cousin, but it seems to me that she's a little spoiled."
I told him that she'd just always been very protective of me--especially, when it came to men.
Let me note here that my aunt is blind, and she couldn't just look out the window when Denise was out playing to make sure that she was okay. She didn't want her to be taken advantage of, so she had taught her to be extra careful of strangers--and Denise was just trying to pass this protection on to her older (but, seemingly, less streetwise) cousin.
Most of the time, it was rather cute--but she had gone way too far when it came to Herbie. I went in the other room after her and informed her that Herbie had gotten the impression she was spoiled--and she let me know in no uncertain terms that she could care less what Herbie thought, because she couldn't stand him anyway!!!
Herbie told me that, if I wanted the pin for myself, I could have it--and I told him I'd be glad to wear it, as it was absolutely beautiful!!!
A few days later, Denise thought she might have overreacted with Herbie--at least, she had decided that she'd like to have the pin, and I told her that it was too late and her chance to have the pin has just moved on down that line!!!
As Denise grew older, she was still protective of me--but she was maturing now and actually seemed to like the various guys I dated. She didn't just gush over them--and there were some that she made it clear that she didn't put her stamp-of-approval on--but she seemed to like them well enough. She always simply told me to be careful because "people like you" are always being taken advantage of because they were so trusting.
In the late 1980s, Denise began working at a bank.
In 1990, she made mention of one of her customers who was such a breath of fresh air.
She said that there were customers who were all business, and that was okay with her. There were others who were friendly enough--but just what was expected. Then, there were customers who were such chronic complainers that they caused a headache epidemic among the bank employees.
But this one customer was so sweet and pleasant that, when he came in, the atmosphere turned so wonderful that even memories of the worst-of-the-worst customers seemed to self-destruct. She couldn't say enough about this man!!!
No, she wasn't romantically-interested in him, as she was definitely in love with someone else. It was just that he almost seemed like an angel to her!!!
This wasn't a conversation she was having with me--this was a conversation that she was having with my folks. At the time, none of them knew that I even knew this person on a personal basis. All my folks knew was that I'd learned about this guy's personal problems and was concerned about him--which is why they'd mentioned the conversation to me.
As far as I know, Denise has no idea to this day that I know him, either--though I believe the time's coming very soon when she will.
But the thought just occurred to me in the past day or two that--of all of my boyfriends (and friends who happened to be boys/men)--this has been the only one that Denise not only approved of but actually spoke of in glowing terms!!!
If that's not a good sign, I don't know what is!!!