Today is a rest day in Cleveland and I was going to take a break from stories but something odd happened…
I woke at 6 with a million chores to do, laundry, grocery shopping, cleaning out my trailer bin, dealing with 2 or 3 medical issues needing tending to, recharging my electronics, sewing a button on my pants… been holding them up with a stiff zipper for 700 miles but my shrinking belly has forced me to replace the missing mother of pearl hasp…, and getting prepared for our service project today at the home of two women who are wheel chair bound from MS and in need of house and yard maintenance help.
Amazingly I got all done before 9 and was ready to go with the crew. I even had time to take pictures of flowers on the way to the grocery store.
We broke up into two teams, one headed to the house of the two women and another to a Neurology Center at one time specializing in MS.
For 8-9 miles along the freeway east I could see where we had ridden the day before, past the airport and along the beach…lined with multimillion dollar homes belonging to Old Wealth.
As we got closer I had an eerie feeling creep over me and the hair stood a up a bit on my arms. We exited from the highway and headed towards the shore into a well to do neighborhood.
Just as we arrived, before me stood a multi story skyscraper apartment building where many years before I had stayed…my long dead brother and his wife had lived there.
I got out of the car and looked to North to the Lake…
and then East to the very balcony where I had dinner with him and his wife some 33 years ago.
Now I never had a good relationship with my brother, he was a bit of a black sheep…in fact for the last 15 years of his life we spoke maybe twice and I saw him just once. On that occasion I was stunned at his appearance, that of a Jewish concentration camp victim, skin a sallow yellow covering protruding bones. A brilliant physician who suffered from mental and physical problems, some of his own doings, he was close to his death.
Not long after, tired of life, he ended it himself to find peace.
Since then on more than one occasion I have sensed his presence close by but each time I looked to a shimmering in the air and said “ Go away, just l leave me alone, make a final goodbye.”
When I came through Cleveland on the last ride I was careful to avoid places I knew he had been…in fact I refused to participate in an MS project at the Cleveland Clinic where he had worked.
After my mother passed away his “ appearances” ceased…I suspect that he and she are off fighting somewhere, old battles from their times on the earth…good for both of them… it leaves me at peace.
Yet today, at the work project there I stood below a balcony where in more pleasant times I had dined with him.
I ponder the “happening” and hear deep within a whisper…“ There were in fact some Good Times…”
Yes…I suppose there were…