Not Ready

22 October 2004

My sister lies prone, in pain.

Tell Aunt Cory about her angels.

My daughter looks at me askance. Rolling her eyes a bit, she begins.

Alaina:

They are rainbow and blue sparkley. Their names are

Vaspat
Veena
Stoneclear
Vinu
Umah
Bigah
Fondah
Bearkind
Mika Po
Mesanah
Meelah
Masomatina
Maforda

and

Mazu.

My sister looks at me askance. Having professed an interest in things otherworldy does not relieve her of skeptecism. Apparently.

I ask her the next day about the names of angels. We are alone, so she responds with good humor.

Alaina:

They always change their names every single second. Right now, they are

Aveena
Heartbeat
Flower
Heartlove Sparkle
Sparkle Tangerine
Meevone
Smahnah
Sugan
Lovebeat

The one that's right here (she points above her crown chakrah) never changes its name. It's called Heartlove Sparkle.

Julia says that you can teach me to see angels, too. Do you think you can?

Alaina:
Sure!

So will you tell me when one is near, and we'll see if I can see it?

Alaina:

Mama, you always have fourteen and fiftyhundred and eighty five hundred and seventeen angels all around you all the time.

That's a lot, then, is it?

Days go by.

Alaina:

There's one, Mama!

I look in the direction she looks, closing my eyes, trying to 'see' the angel, as Garrett 'sees' auras by "looking at people with my eyes closed."


Ummm....it's pink?

Alaina:

Yesssss.

Proud, she smiles. Then, two days later:

Right above you, Mama!

We are in the grocery, but this is important and frumpy judgemental overeaters of Glen Burnie and their opinions of my activities are immaterial. I tip my face up, get a sense of...

...green. It's green, isn't it?

Alaina:

I knew you could dew it!

A notion of color is a long way off a full-fledged vision, but my daughter seems so proud of me that I hesitate to voice any disapointment.