Last night, as we were heading off to tuck him into bed, my boy said, 'I had a good day mom.'
Yesterday was special. He came home in a good mood. His father had made a good tri-tip the night before (I believe to make up for his making him sit out the basketball game). His drum teacher had cancelled, and I asked him to make contact with Anthony as we are teaching him about responsibility now, and we want to make sure he continues to make progress when, essentially, his role model set a poor example by cancelling at the last minute.
I had a sandwich ready for him when he came home. And he did his homework.
On Sunday nights we usually do all the family laundry.
This time we decorated for Christmas.
It's one of Anthony's favorite things to do. He adores the lights and designing our yard one year from the next.
Even the car we drive currently, is one that we bought amongst other things, so we could take home the tree! (It's five years old).
I was surprised at how organized I was when I put everything away last year. It was easy this year. And our inflatable Santa with the list who stands eight feet tall, died. The little fan in it makes a weird noise. Fortunately for us, we have a backup, a similar snowman. He works just fine so we put him up. I decorate the lights over the garage door, because I stand on a stepladder. The old owners left little nails.
As I was hanging the lights, I realized how far I've come. It was important to me to put lights up. But I was to afraid to figure it out, when I moved in. The plug was way across the garage, by the kitchen. Was it safe?
After two years, I tried it, with a super long cord. It used to trip the circuit breaker a lot, but I had a few lights.
Then Anthony was born, and in passing comment to a neighbor, who is an electrician, I got a new plug, just for the holiday lights, right by the trash cans in the garage. We also got a timer from him, one we can set to turn on at sunset and to stay on for four, six, eight hours or until sunrise.
Eventually we got the spikes with the extension plugs in it, and figured out how to put a little doormat over the part where it crosses the walkway so people don't trip. Now when I go up the stairs, it's magical to look at our yard, which is really, half a yard because we share it with the neighbor, all lit up and glowing.
Even last night, Anthony paused on the landing, and admired his work, saying, 'it looks good mom!'
When you decorate for Christmas like this, every year, things wear out and break. Not just the Santa. We used to have the icicle lights, but they burnt out, and it's not like the old ones with Dad where I would take the new one and screw in the bulb until we found the bad one one the whole string would light up. That would take forever and all the little bulbs are different shape on the bottom. So you throw the whole string out.
That's the Christmas, really if you think about it. It's not what you do, but it's being a kid with your parents and thinking it was going to be forever. It's learning how to do the traditions as your get older. And enjoying them on your own once you move out. Then passing them on to your own family, knowing how precious is it the whole time, and how it isn't forever, it's going to go by really quick.
I've only had five Christmas Days with Anthony. His father has had the other. On the alternate years where I get him on Thanksgiving, I get him Christmas Eve. Which in a way is nicer, because he comes down the stairs in the morning.
Anthony is eleven now. At nine someone told him Santa was a fake and he was almost suicidal over it.
He couldn't believe the lies, that we would tell him lies! He accused me, personally, of harming him with the lies. He asked me, 'HOW COULD YOU?!'
I said to him, that I didn't want him to feel left out, everyone tells it to their kids, and it's what makes Christmas fun, and I'm sorry because I didn't know he wouldn't like it. If I did know, I wouldn't have done it.
That year we celebrated Hanukah. Anthony wanted to be Jewish because there they don't tell you any lies.
Last year he came around, and said it was okay for us to do Christmas again. He understood.
Last night we bought the tree. I like real ones. I realized on the way there, the reason people have so many respiratory problems--my mom says real ones do this and to get a fake one, which I won't--is the dust on the trees. I figured, it's probably a lot more than dust, since Christmas trees aren't organic. It's chemicals. But fake ones have different chemicals too. You can't win!
We used to only get six foot trees. That's what I can carry. When Anthony was little we would put the top down on the convertible (that's all I had, still have it as a backup car now), put the baby into the car seat, and basically put the tree on his lap.
That's why we bought the new car. He and the tree didn't fit the last year when he was four or five!
As he grew taller, he wanted the same height over his head. He wanted seven to eight feet, noble fir. But I couldn't carry it. We couldn't carry it together. So the man would put it in the car for us, and at home a neighbor would help us to bring it in.
This year Anthony carried the whole thing! It's a lot narrower at the base, than our others. And it was dry. But I didn't have to lift a finger and the day was MUCH easier for me. I did the stand to adjust it.
Anthony did the lights. I helped. And he put his favorite decorations up. He likes the Hallmark ones.
The first ornament he hung was Jackie Robinson, number 42. Then Russell Wilson. After that, Star Wars.
I asked him to help me hang a few for me, God's Love, a gold golf ball to remind me of my dad, some antique ones from the eighties when I was married to Mark. As I hung them, I realized my life was halfway lived, and when I had bought them, I was just starting out. I've lived my dreams, and I am lucky.
But you know what? I also had a lot of the ornaments turn my stomach.
I couldn't hang them.
Everything Disney--and I had a lot--I didn't want on my tree. I have Cinderella, and Pinocchio. I love Pinocchio because it was the first film my mom took me to see, as a kid, way before my sister was born. I recall that day with love and happiness. It was at the Town Theater in Long Beach, an old art deco one. I loved Cinderella because that was my first watch my parents ever gave me.
They lied.
Disney lied.
The Masons who run the show (not your everyday Mason, I'm talking the really high up, level 33 and above) and have the secret handshake I saw celebrities give each other on the videos I had watched yesterday. I've seen a lot more than I shared.
I saw how my Eiffel Tower and Empire State Building and Statue of Liberty ornaments are all built by THEM, for their supernatural occult purpose. And I knew for sure because I learned of the hidden room up at the top of the first two, and saw the photos of the 'rich and elite' smiling from the one at the Empire State where there's no safety rails...their secret club!
The News who covers both sides, both are controlled, all stories are controlled, and there is so much corruption and sex and casting couches going on behind the scenes.
I saw old photos from a Rockefeller party in the 1960's. There were many abominable things, seriously occult, and people thinking it was really cool to do that. I could see their faces in the pictures.
I heard and saw Angelina Jolie talking to her friends about the secret things she saw when she was just joining up with that powerful secret society. It was hidden tape. She spoke of seeing the 'powerful sexuality just out there' and she 'had to kill her snake'. She spoke of being tied up and it was to keep the power restrained, to hold her down...
I saw all of this online, on YouTube, and I've studied it across many sites, it's the same theme...them tricking us and them thinking it's cool to be like that. It made me sad.
What if everything I was ever told was a lie, much worse than Santa?
I had thought about it earlier, and I realized if people are tricked to worship something, it's not worship. And even if they love the idols who are created in the arts, the sports, the entertainment--by the 'other team'-- they don't really understand in their hearts or love....IT...the thing behind that 'team' which makes it go. And if they did, they wouldn't accept it.
When people are in trouble, their souls cry out to a different God, not IT. The average people who do everything, in their moment of distress, cry out to Creator of All That Is, no matter what name they use to call for help.
I see how the other team doesn't think of us as human, as the same as them.
All this while I was decorating the tree.
Instead I hung up fake pine cones of glass, gold colored oak leaves (it was replaced with gold), and memories of my niece and nephew, my being an expectant mom (a Hallmark ornament), or Baby's first Christmas.
The Mickey Mouse ears my sister bought for fifty dollars eleven years ago, the ones with his name on it and are fine china? I wrapped, and gently put away. I couldn't hang them. Disney had all of us duped our whole lives. And the castle ornament, one made to look like it was build of candy? I threw it out. I couldn't look at it.
Then I saw it.
I saw the garlic ornament. I like cooking. I have some like that, like vegetables.
And I remembered!
In Sicily, where my mother is from, they put garlic in every window of the house. Just a little clove (toe) of it. It keeps the bad spirits away. And I always had one in my pocket, too, growing up, just for luck..and protection. Mom would keep garlic under our mattress too, to keep us safe from spiritual attack.
Back home, they knew about IT, and how the church was influenced by IT, and how the government and the police and business was controlled by a secret society that was hidden from the world but had the real power. My grandfather told her once when she was little that a council of twelve or eight people who were very rich decided when and where war would be next. They decided everything.
And he told her to fit in and not make it look like she knew what he had told her, but he wanted her to know and not be tricked.
I hung the garlic, and asked Creator to cleanse any residue of IT from my tree--the pesticides and chemicals, the ornaments I liked that might still have influence that I didn't know, and even the whole supply system and who was making money from the sale.
Garlic is good.
And I slept well.
Ross
I want you to know two things: 1) we are in this together and 2) everything is going to be okay.
clap! clap!
Aloha and Mahalos,
Namaste,
Peace,
Ross and Carla
The Reiki Doc Love
P.S. New Gaia Portal: https://gaiaportal.wordpress.com/2016/12/05/hue-manity-emissions-are-visible-to-those-with-eyes/
