A Love Story by YourEnchantedGardener .....

A Love story that happened to me the other day, as I was having an epihany of healing following my 40th High School ReUnion. This story is about finding others who need our support and love and giving it. They may not be able to receive the love, but we can still send it out and be grateful for whatever we have send. As Bernard Jensen taught, we love for ourselves. Love someone today because it makes this world a more lovely place.

Date:   4/12/2005 4:56:14 PM ( 19 y ago)

Sunday afternoon, following an incredible healing
that took place at a brunch of old friends from
my 40th High School Reunion,
I was the last to leave the Marie Calendar's Restaurant
on the Miracle Mile in Los Angeles.

Los Angeles is the City of my Birth.
It is the City where I go back from time to time
and receive miraculous healing when I am open to it.

I left pieces of my self in Los Angeles.
The Tree of Life I am
started to cripple up in Los Angeles
before it showed up in my body.

Then, in Los Angeles the crippledness
I physically carry, so to speak--
first showing itself there too,
but the doctors could not figure out
what was wrong with me for many years.

Those were the days before we had anything
called Holistic Health.

Those were the days when doctors turned their nose
up and said you were "psychosomatic!"
as if there were something wrong with you.

Today, being psychosomatic is a no brainer.
Even people on the street know that the mind
and how we are blocking our feelings hurts the body
and deeply creates the preconditions for what
the Western Meds call diseases.

So after the brunch I was deep.
I was soaring and yet grounded.

I decided to treat myself.

I was not in any rush to leave the area.

First I sent over to a Monument to a name named
Ross who founded the Miracle Mile.

I had just had a Miracle!
I had just healed some wounds
that were with me for 40 years!

I will write about that later,
but first things first...

In my life, the Heart always comes first
when it comes to being touched.

So first I went to visit Ross.
He was a a man of vision.

Then I went across the street to the La Brea Tar Pits.

That was a place where a very lonely and sad 15-16-17 year
old that was me would come on Saturday afternoons either
with a friend or alone.

I would walk around. I even remember getting tar on my hands.

That was before that had the incredible museums in the park.

After, that I decided to go to the Farmers' Market at Third and Fairfax.
That Farmer's Market is the Mother of All Farmers' Markets,
and for those who read this Blog, you know how much I love
Farmers' Markets!

This Farmers' Market has been ongoing since the 30's.
It has stalls. It has little shops.

When I was young, I would ride my bike here every Friday and
buy stamps for my collection. IT was my ritual.

Then, I would go to the store where they had the Classic Comics.
I would read a Classic Comic, something wonderful like
Moby Dick, or whatever.

Then, sometimes I would go to the Magic Store.

I am crying right now because there is something very sad
I am feeling.

My mother was already gone, and I felt deserted by some of my
closest friends.

Some of us had been friends since we were two feet tall.
We moved to this side of town together.

I had one best friend who I knew since Third Grade or so.
When we came to this side of town, the very summer after
we arrived, we would bike around to Hollywood.

Then in Junior High, he got mad at me for some reason,
and completely cut me out of his life.

His name was Billy. He knew my mom. He knew my dad.
He knew me.

Throughout Jr. High, and High School when he saw me,
he acted as if I did not exist.

He was one of the most popular boys at school.
In High School he was on the Basketball team.

I was developing pains in my hips that would later be named
as Anglyosiin Spondylitis, when I was 25 and a student at UCLA.

Can you imagine! I was stumbling around in pain in my hips for
ten years before they could even name what was wrong?????!!!

If was psychosomatic. I was dying from so much hurt--a most mom,
an absent dad, a sister living somewhere else.

So I would come to the Farmer's Market, the place that Billy showed me
when we moved to the West Side, but now even Billy, my best friend
was gone. Gone, but not dead. I was the one who he treated as if I were dead.

The Farmers' Market was a friendly place for a lonely boy.

When I was 17, and had graduated.
I remember wearing the suit in the picture below.
My father, if I remember right, had deserted me totally and left me
with a whole house full of furniture and a 52 Chevy I did not know how to drive.
NO damn license. NO damn father to teach me how to drive!!!!

Just when the other boys were 16 and there dads were teaching them to drive
and getting them cars, my dad would not teach me to drive the car he had.

Then, I am 17, and he splits.

I feel so angry!!!!

Have you any clue to what it is like for a 16 year old boy who is just finding his
way with girls to not be able to drive? For me, it was a big thing.
I felt crippled. I felt totally crippled socially before I ever showed up being
crippled in my body.

In LA, the peers I had, all started to drive then.

Then the summer after high school, my best friend Richard Lapidus and
I decided to go to the same Junior College in the Valley.

Somehow, all the furniture and dishes got moved over.
by then, I knew how to drive the F-king car!!!

My brother-in-law taught me, my sister Vivian's husband.

During that time, I hadn't a clue where my father was.
He had remarried. My stepmother ran away.

She had a military background. She was used to giving orders.
I would yell back. Then she would split.

I remember my father telling me:
"Leslie, stop yelling! You are ruining my life!
Your are making Ida run away!"

So I shut up, finally.
Guess where all the F-king feelings went.????

Right into my hips.

Can you guess, where the cancer showed up
before my Mother Died????

First in her breasts, so they cut those off.
Then, into her hips.

My mother was the world to me.
She was the closest person I knew.

I remember visiting her in the hospital.
I must have been around 12, the year before
my Bar Mitzvah.

I remember her saying, "Must I die?"
She did not die all that quick.
We had moved from the East Side to the West Side of LA
with all the other Jews.

But when she was diagnosed with Cancer, they took her
back to a convalescent hospital in the East Side.

The last six months she was alive, I hardly saw her!!!
Can you imagine?????

What guilt I later felt. I can't even tell you why I never saw her.
I imagine I was being protected, or something about being
in school and having no time, and no way to get over there.

Good God. That is enough to cripple any kid.

So here I am finally at 17.
I have already been on crutches at least once for long periods of time.
I have already been through the Western Med system
at least once.

And now, I am graduated.
So I am in some store across from the Farmers' Market
wearing this F...king suit in the photo below, trying to get a job.
I think I went into a printing place and asked for summer work.

No way...can't work here!!!

I felt so lost...so stupid...

One time in my whole life--one TIME!!!!
I remember my mother and father taking me to a restaurant.
I had just graduated Jewish Day School.
So we went to the Farmers' Market to eat---
We went to Dupars.

Oh God, I am so angry.

I can hear Serina in the next room right now.
There is a pre-mitzvah kid saying prayers out loud.
She is teaching him.

My father taught me my Bar Mitzvah...or should I say
forced it down my throat.

One other time, years later, my dad and my stepmother
went to the Farmers' Market to eat.

Then, I went back on Sunday...a couple days ago.

I went into a bakery looking for the old Comic book store.

There was a lovely young lady working there.

I was in a bright shiny mood. I wanted to buy a gift for
Rosana and Natan, a young couple who live with Serina.
Natan is her son.

So here is the sweetest, cutest girl working in the store.

She is open.
We start to talk.

She tells me she is a student at Fairfax High School,
the school in the neighborhood.

She tells me she likes to read.

I asked her what she read.
she named an author I did not know.

I asked if she had read Catcher in the Rye.
She said yes, in the third grade.

Wow!!!

She was very intimate.
She told me she had dropped out of school.
Now she was back.

I showed her one of my poems,
one of the Seven Love cures.
She looked emotional. She appeared to be
blushing a bit.

I told her to remember me when I became famous.

She was so sweet.

I imagined that she was having the same kind of problems
that I had when I was 17.

she told me she had a blog on a site called MySpace.
She gave me the way to get there.

We even went outside and she let me take a photo.
The photo on her Blog is much better.

At first I could not find her Blog, but when I signed in,
I found her.

I wish I could help her. I wish I could somehow
be a friend, an older person, who could guide this lovely
17 year old woman.

I looked at the other Blogs on Myspace.

Lots of 17 year olds.
Gosh, I feel so sad that they are growing up
in such a world that they have inherited.

I wonder if there is something I can Do?

Can I inspire them in some way?

Can I help her see some of the wonderful things
I have found in this life.

Can I show her some of the wonderful things there are in life.

I read on her Blog that she feels she has a boring job.

She is obviously a very special young woman.

I can feel her in my heart, but really have no aspirations toward
her other than I desire to help the 17 year old that was me,
who never got the help he needed when he was that age.

I was so happy when I found her Blog.

I had this feeling, she could have been my daughter.
I wished I could have adopted her in some way,
to give her what she did not have.

I had a sense she did not have a mother or father
that were close to her.

I cannot say if I will have the chance to reach out to her,
but it makes me want
to be an Enchanted Gardener for young people her age.

Oh Youth!

I hope they find me here.
I hope she can feel the love.

Your Enchanted Gardener

This is where you will find the story of my 30th High School ReUnion
that begins this series about a Radical Healing surrounding my 40th ReUnion:
http://curezone.com/blogs/m.asp?f=92&i=120

 

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