Strange Fruit.
Hi,
.
This morning I woke unfeasibly early again, but I was snug, and it was quite enjoyable to simply lie there next to a quietly sleeping Big H , just letting my mind drift past all sorts of disconnected memories and thoughts.
.
I remembered my father and various conversations that we had when I was a child.
I think that I must have been quite annoying, especially to my mother who was very down to earth and eminently practical.
Constant questions about what happened when we died, where did we all go, and what is there at the end of the universe, and how can the universe go on forever without there being an end, and are we living in a box under a huge Giant’s bed, did not go down very well at all with her.
.
I was then frustrated in turn, by her ever presented answer that ‘ that was for her to know and for me to find out’, varied sometimes with the other favourite of ‘curiosity killed the cat’.
.
My father, however, was sometimes more forthcoming, especially if he had finished work early and gone for a drink at the Working Men’s Club.
.
One day he started talking about his little brother who had been born ten years after him.
All of my father’s family were very tall except for this little brother who only grew to about five seven and was never very strong.
As a child he had always suffered from one illness after another, missing a great deal of time at school.
.
Dad and his brother shared a room and he felt very protective about his sickly little sibling even though he could be quite a nuisance.
During one illness when the little boy was about two or three, the doctor had told my grandmother that her youngest was seriously ill and that it could go either way now. It would all come to a crisis soon and hopefully he would pull through.
That night my father went to sleep and his mum was sitting watching over her littlest child who was sleeping peacefully across the room in the other bed.
Suddenly my father woke up with a start and looked over to the other bed. He saw a hideous old crone bending over the side of the cot and looking down at the sleeping child. She had one hand extended down towards him. My father blurted out “Hey, what are you doing?”, and she turned to look at him. He said that she stared at him malevolently for what seemed like ages.
There was a sound and he glanced at the bedroom door, when he looked back she was gone.
.
He spent a long time watching his brother’s cot before he dropped off to sleep again that night.
In the morning the doctor said that the crisis had passed and his brother would now begin to recover.
.
When he was older and doing his rounds in the local area he used to visit an old lady in a nearby terrace. This lady was well known for being able to look at someone and tell them the cause of their ill health. She told my father that when she looked at a person she could see a black spot on their body over the place where they had the problem.
She liked him and wanted to tell him all about it but he did not follow it through.
.
Later on, when he told me about her, I asked him lots of questions about her but he could not answer them. I asked why he had not talked to her and he said that he was too young at the time. He had been in a hurry to do his own thing and thought that there would always be time to ask questions later.
Of course she died and the chance was gone.
.
My great-grandfather was also well known in the area as a strongman who could lift a huge cask of beer, or a horse, when he was in the mood to show off.
He ruptured himself in his later life by doing such feats when he was far too old for it.
He was also well known for his ability to heal animals, especially horses and dogs.
.
My father had clear memories of watching him holding a horse’s head and breathing into it’s nostrils and murmuring to it. The animals would stand there as if in a trance while he felt them and checked them over.
He would then tell the owner what was wrong and what to do about it. My dad remembered someone bringing a beautiful dog to his father because it was losing condition and it’s dark fur was going a dry shade of red.
That was simply dealt with by telling the owner to feed the dog a kipper each day from then on. It was soon back to normal.
He did say that his grandfather was not so greatly enamoured of people though.
.
My father had a very palpable presence about him and his touch was powerful too. He admitted to me when I began healing that he could do it but he did not want to and he was not going to.
.
I remember an incident which happened when I was quite small.
We were enjoying a rare weeks holiday at a seaside holiday town not far from home. It was a beautiful summer day and we were sitting in a little sandy cove at the bottom of a flight of stairs.
A lady with a walking stick appeared at the top of the stairs and stood looking down at us.
I saw her and wondered why she was staring at us like that.
After a time she left the man she was standing with and slowly made her way down the flight of stairs and across to my father.
.
She asked him if he was a healer and he answered no. She said was he sure he was not a healer because she had been told that she would meet a healer at the bottom of a flight of steps and he would be able to cure her.
He said she was sorry but she was mistaken.
.
Looking sad and disappointed she made her way back up the steps and the pair left.
Mum sat there just giving him a ‘look’
.
Later, as an adult, I asked him why he did not try to help her. He said that he did not want to get involved in all that.
.
Not long before he died, he told Big H and I that he had been reading about a place at the back of the skull that was very effective if massaged with the thumbs while the fingers were laid at the sides of the head.
I asked him to show us and he did it to each of us in turn. I felt amazed by the strength of the power he transmitted.
Later on, as we returned home, Big H asked me if I had felt the power coming from his hands.
.
He was most unusual.
LOL
J.
.
.
.
