Tag Archive for: Evelyn

The Spirit Moves Me

By Evelyn David

Excuse me.

This blog is a bit all over the place, but I assure you that it’s all connected – though maybe just in my head.

Fellow Stiletto Gang member and person extraordinaire, Maggie Barbieri, has been raving about the positive effects of acupuncture. Intellectually, I’ve always believed that there is value in alternative medicine, especially in conjunction with traditional Western treatment. For the past six months, my normal level of general anxiety has been inching up, impacting on my daily life. Plus I have a litany of other small physical ailments that have also begun to take a toll. So I made an appointment with the acupuncturist.

In the middle of the Big Apple, with buses and trucks roaring by, horns honking, people crowding the sidewalks, on the ninth floor of a skyscraper, there is this tiny oasis of peace. Quiet except for the trickle of a small fountain, I felt calm just walking into the waiting room. Quite the contrast to my normal blood pressure spike when I enter a doctor’s office.

The acupuncturist was as kind and gentle as Maggie had promised. I have but two things to say about the treatment. First, the needles don’t hurt, not even a little bit, not even a smudge. Second, I had listened with a whole lot of doubt as the therapist explained the basic underlying concept of acupuncture, with the emphasis on what each of the organs of the body do to our “chi.” She described how our liver and kidneys hold the key to anxiety and that she would be placing needles on my back above each of the organs. But to my shock, about halfway through the treatment, I could feel a current going down each leg. I imagined it was my anxiety passing out of my system. There was no electricity attached to the needles, it was simply the sensation I was feeling.

Now let me add another layer to the whole experience. The acupuncturist placed the needles and explained that she would leave the room and wait in the hallway, but would come back in ten minutes. To my surprise, she never left. At the end of the treatment, she asked if I prayed to a female version of God. I said I didn’t (all those years of religious school has left an indelible impression of a male figure). She apologized and explained that she strongly felt the spirit of motherhood in the room and it told her not to leave.

I was somewhat confused, but feeling so good, that I immediately made an appointment for another visit. I felt like I was finally taking control of getting back to me.

As soon as I described the experience to my husband, he started to laugh and then immediately, so did I. Of course, there was a spirit of motherhood in the room. Hasn’t she always been there to protect me even if she has been gone from this earth for 23 years? My mother’s spirit has visited me twice since she died, both times to make sure that I was alright. Surely she would be there (and approve) of my taking a course of action to feel stronger, more in control.

I know I write paranormal mysteries, and joke constantly with the Southern half of Evelyn David, about not believing all this woo-woo stuff. What I do believe in is the power of the original Evelyn – my Mom who has never let a little thing like death stop her from protecting her child, even if this child is now a Grandma!

May you all find peace.

Marian

__________

Brianna Sullivan Mysteries – e-book series
I Try Not to Drive Past Cemeteries- Kindle (Exclusive at Amazon this month)
The Dog Days of Summer in Lottawatah- KindleNookSmashwords
The Holiday Spirit(s) of Lottawatah- KindleNookSmashwords
Undying Love in Lottawatah- KindleNookSmashwords
A Haunting in Lottawatah – KindleNookSmashwords
Lottawatah Twister – KindleNookSmashwords
Missing in Lottawatah – KindleNookSmashwords
Good Grief in Lottawatah – KindleNookSmashwords

Sullivan Investigations Mystery – e-book series
Murder Off the Books KindleNookSmashwords
Murder Takes the Cake KindleNookSmashwords
Riley Come Home (short story)- KindleNookSmashwords
Moonlighting at the Mall (short story) – KindleNookSmashwords

Romances
Love Lessons – KindleNookSmashwords

A Force of Nature

I have a dream that little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.

Next Sunday will mark the 48th anniversary of the March on Washington. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.’s stirring “I have a dream” speech still resonates. Sadly, his dream is not yet fulfilled, despite the intervening years.

I was there that sweltering summer day. I knew as the words rang out that it was a call to arms. But almost 50 years later, what I also want to pay tribute to is the woman who took me on the bus from Baltimore to be a part of that momentous day; the woman who taught me the importance of never judging anyone by the color of their skin, their religion, or their sexual preferences. As she took her young daughter to the March on Washington, she also took Helen Jones, the lady who came once a week to clean our house. I was too young to go by myself; Helen too scared. Both encouraged, supported, and protected by Big Evelyn, as my mother was known in her family (as distinguished from Little Evelyn, her cousin, who was indeed six inches shorter than she), Helen and I walked with Mom from the Washington Monument to the Lincoln Memorial, surrounded by hundreds of thousands of others, united in our quest for justice.

I’ve been thinking a lot about my mother. Her birthday is next month. She’s been gone for 23 years – just six weeks after my daughter was born. I am convinced that was no coincidence. She was so very sick, but absolutely determined to live to see her oldest grandchild graduate from high school and to hold her only granddaughter in her arms. My mother was a force of nature. There must have been times when she was scared and worried, but I never saw it. She was a product of the depression, an orphan by the age of 25, widowed by 28 with a 14-month old daughter to care for. But she took a second chance on love and married my Dad, and then had me. She taught me that you play the hand you’re dealt, you cope because that’s what you do. She laughed louder and longer than anyone. Loved designer clothes and put them on layaway to buy them. Had big feet – and a bigger heart.

She wasn’t perfect. She had a trigger temper, but didn’t hold a grudge. Demanded that you had good manners and showed respect for all people. Her best Jewish guilt line, that inevitably got me to do what I fervently didn’t want to do was: “Marian, you know what the right thing is.” Phooey, she always had me with that admonition — even when I was married and had kids of my own. She insisted that I do the right thing, even when the wrong thing would be easier and more fun.

She fought against injustice wherever she saw it. Her best friends reflected her belief that you choose your companions because you like them and share common interests, so they included an Orthodox Jew, a devout Catholic, an African-American Southern Baptist, and a host of others. If you enjoy good conversation, laughter, the theater, jazz, and yes, mystery novels, you’d have loved my mother.

It’s hard to live up to someone like Mom – and she’d be furious with me that I worry about that. But as I think back to that March on Washington, what an incredible gift she gave me. The lessons I learned from her, the original Evelyn, have lasted a lifetime.
Thanks Mom.

Marian, the Northern half of Evelyn David

Want to read more?
Check out the Brianna Sullivan Mysteries e-book series. 

Brianna Sullivan Mysteries – e-book series
I Try Not to Drive Past Cemeteries- KindleNookSmashwords
The Dog Days of Summer in Lottawatah- KindleNookSmashwords
The Holiday Spirit(s) of Lottawatah- KindleNookSmashwords
Undying Love in Lottawatah- KindleNookSmashwords

A Haunting in Lottawatah – KindleNookSmashwords
***New – Lottawatah Twister – KindleNookSmashwords

The Sullivan Investigation Series
Murder Takes the Cake- PaperbackKindle
Murder Off the Books- PaperbackKindle
Riley Come Home (short story)- KindleNookSmashwords

Romances

Love Lessons – KindleNookSmashwords