The Parting Glass

You never know who you will meet…

“I know it will be rainy and probably cold,” she thought to herself as she shoved an extra wool sweater into the already bulging bag.

She was not happy about going to Ireland in the middle of winter. A last-minute work trip was bad enough, but an overnight flight out of Chicago was going to be a nightmare. 

The snow was already coming down, and she knew that meant they would probably get stuck waiting at the airport.

“Mary, your taxi’s here,” her mom called from downstairs.

“I’m coming,” she said, grabbing her suitcase and backpack. “Tell Dad I love him and I’ll see him when I get back.” She gave her mom a quick kiss on the cheek and ran out the door.

Jack was waiting at the check-in counter when she arrived. “The flight is only 15 minutes late, so we should be fine,” he said, trying to calm his frazzled coworker.

“Let’s grab a drink at the bar.  Maybe a little alcohol will help you relax,” he grumbled.

“Okay, since we’re going to Ireland, I’ll have a Jameson,” quipped Mary.

As the bartender gave them their drinks, an older man sitting at the bar raised his glass and cheered, "Sláinte!"

Jack turned quickly and said, “They’re getting ready to board, so we have to go.” They downed their drinks and went to the gate.

“I really need to use the restroom,” said Mary.

“Let’s get on the plane and then you can go,” said Jack, growing more frustrated.

Mary tried to move around the people boarding while she waited for the toilet. “Finally,” she muttered to herself, jumping into the open stall.

As she washed her hands, she noticed the paper towels were stuck tightly inside the dispenser. She pulled down to get a few out and cut her finger on the edge. She was bleeding.

“That’s just great,” she said sarcastically. She wrapped her finger with the towels and opened the door.

Standing in front of her was the old man from the bar.
“Well now, dear, you’ve hurt yourself,” he said, taking her hand.

Mary shuddered - his hands were like ice. She pulled away and hurried back to her seat.

Jack was already half asleep. When she told him what happened, he shook his head and mumbled, “What man?”

Just then, Mary’s phone rang. It was her mother.

“Hi Mom, I’m on the plane. Can I call you when we land?” 

“Mary, it’s your dad,” her mom said, sobbing. “He’s gone, honey. He had a heart attack right after you left.

Before he passed, he said the strangest thing - he said to tell you to put a Band-Aid on your finger.”

The Stanley Hotel - A True Ghost Story

It was a lovely spring day, and my friend was coming to Colorado for a visit.  We decided to go to Estes Park for the weekend. 

 
We talked as we drove up the mountain and he asked if this was where “The Shining” was filmed.  I told him I wasn't sure, but I thought it might be. 

It was a glorious day - blue sky, beautiful scenery, and the perfect way to begin our trip.

As we approached the overlook of Estes Park with the Rocky Mountains rising in the background, it was truly a spectacular sight.

We drove toward town and noticed a striking white building up on the hill.  Neither of us knew what it was, so we decided to investigate.  

Driving closer, we marveled at the perfectly manicured grounds and then saw the sign that read - The Stanley Hotel.

We agreed that we had to see it but were sure that it would be too expensive to stay there.

As we entered the property, the massive white gates opened to a large outdoor patio.  Inside, the lobby was beautifully decorated with big leather chairs surrounding several huge stone fireplaces.  Antique tables with fresh flowers brightened every corner, it was warm and inviting.  

We inquired about the rates and were surprised that they were offering a special price for the night, so we decided to stay.  

After checking in, the desk clerk informed us that the hotel was haunted and that they had ghost tours in the basement after dark.  We thought it was amusing and a good tourist attraction but declined.

Climbing the stairs, we noticed the air changing, it became heavy and dense.  The brightness of the lobby faded as we walked toward our room.  

When we opened the door, we were immediately struck with the closeness of the space.  Not only was it very small but there didn't seem to be any air circulating at all.  

We knew that this would not be comfortable and asked to change rooms.  They moved us to a large, beautifully appointed suite with a great view of the mountains. 

We enjoyed a luxurious meal downstairs at the restaurant and continued to marvel at the wonderful surroundings.  We planned on going into town later and do some sightseeing, but we never left the hotel.  

Throughout the evening, several people approached me saying I looked like someone they knew.  

When I went downstairs to the restroom, I felt a chill in the air.  The entire time I was there I felt as though I was being watched, it made me very uneasy, and I hurried back to our table.  

My friend laughed when I told him and reminded me about the ghost tours.  I thought it was funny, and quickly put it out of my mind.  

It was getting late, so we decided to go back up to the room.  As we sat and talked, I felt a sudden draft of cold air and looked to see where it was coming from.  

I was shocked when I saw an apparition of a man step through the doorway of the bathroom and disappear.  

Before I could react, my friend asked if there was someone behind him.  Standing over his shoulder I could see the faint outline of a young girl.  We both were stunned, not sure what was happening.  

Slowly we began to speak, this felt like a child’s spirit nothing malevolent, but terrifying just the same.

Suddenly, the energy changed dramatically.  The room filled with cold air and a bright light flashed across the wall and splashed on the bureau mirror.  It felt as though dozens of very angry people were trying to get into the room. 

We were both in shock at what we were seeing and feeling.  It was 2:00 a.m. and checking out in the middle of the night seemed strange, but we could not stay any longer.

It was a relief to see the friendly night clerk at the desk. 
 
When we told her what happened, she said that it was a regular occurrence because the hotel really was haunted.  She had seen some extraordinary things herself. 

We talked to her for some time, hoping to calm down before driving home.  

She said she was not surprised that I had a bad experience.  She told me that I looked very much like a woman from the hotel who passed away many years ago.  
 
We drove back down the mountain in silence.  Years later, I still think about what we encountered in that strange and dark place.  
 
I have never returned to the Stanley or to Estes Park.
 

Dolly Parton

Dolly Parton passed away today...

The earliest memory I have of her is watching her sing on The Porter Wagoner Show when I was a young girl.  I was stunned when I heard "I Will Always Love You" for the first time.

On Saturday evenings, we would go to visit my mother's friend Margaret and her family.  There was always country music playing at their house.  Sometimes Margaret's husband would push the furniture out of the way in the living room so we could dance before the adults went into the kitchen to drink and play cards.

There were always a lot of kids, and we knew that if we were quiet, we could stay up late. We'd play hide-and-seek and any other games we could think of.  It was so much fun.

As the night went on, there would almost always be some sort of argument in the kitchen.  We never knew what it was about, and sometimes there would even be a fistfight, so we understood that we had to stay out of the way until it was time to go home.

When I heard the news about Dolly, my mind immediately went back to those wild nights.  All the love, family, friendship, music and mayhem of my youth.

Lightness of Being

 I’m not sure if it was turning 70, surviving cancer or simply having lived enough life to understand that there is nothing worth sacrificing your peace and well-being over. 

Through the years, I have done what most people (especially women) have done.  I’ve taken care of everyone else, until there was nothing left for me.  Always at the bottom of my own priority list, I was too spent and exhausted to do anything else. It’s no surprise that it took this long for me to discover what was right for me.

Now, something has shifted and I feel a sense of ease that I’ve never known. It doesn’t matter if it is cleaning the house or going out with friends or family, if I don’t feel like doing it, I just let it go. 

The big surprise for me was that I actually get more done.  The less I demand of myself the more I am able to accomplish.  It changes from ‘Have To’ to ‘Want To’ and it gives me permission to enjoy whatever I choose to do with my day. 

Getting there hasn’t been easy. I still have the ghosts of ‘I Need To’ haunting my mind.  How many things were left undone during my cancer treatment and recovery were weighing heavily on me.  I felt overwhelmed by the sheer volume of tasks that were put on hold.  I made lists and project plans to get it all accomplished.  Doing all of that didn’t make me feel better, it actually made it much worse.  Now, I had written proof of what I had not done. 

Gradually, I started to reassess all of those self-imposed requirements. Asking myself the really tough questions like “What exactly will happen if I don’t change the closet light bulb?” When I started looking at it through that lens, it all became very clear, these were wants not needs and it began to soften the expectations I had set for myself.

How silly I felt, after all I had been through, that I was letting something so minor steal my peace. So, I looked again at those dreaded lists and realized that absolutely none of it was critical.  Yes, they are things that I would like to eventually do or better yet have someone else do, but not right now.

Today, I was thinking of cleaning and doing laundry but what I wanted to do was to sit and write down how I was feeling about all of this.  Kind of like the buddy system with exercising.  If you do it with someone you are more likely to continue.  Sharing this helps to reinforce the fact that I really can do exactly what I want to do and nothing catastrophic is going to happen.

Days of multi-tasking and rushing to get things done are mostly behind me now.  If I’m in a hurry, it’s because I’m doing something fun.  I’ll happily be quick to get ready for a fantastic outing with my daughter and not give a second thought to that laundry basket.

I realize more than ever that my time and energy are priceless and that all that matters is that I enjoy this incredible lightness of being. 

Has your perspective in life shifted as you’ve gotten older?  What changes have you seen in the way that you move through your life?
Share your stories and join the conversation!

Published on Sixtyandme.com

Scars

Inside and out, my scars are the most cherished part of me.

They are my battle wounds, healed yet still tender from what cut me.

Never to be forgotten, not to be ignored, they are my greatest strength and a gentle reminder of all that came before.

If you look closely, you will see the beauty that came from the pain.

Butterflies and Philosophers

I didn’t have posters of rock bands or movie stars on my walls as a young girl. Mine were French philosophers (Camus, Sartre, de Beauvoir) and beautiful butterflies in every shape and shade imaginable.

It might give you a hint as to what kind of child I was - curious, a little dreamy, caught somewhere between deep thought and flights of fancy.

I loved big dreams paired with delicate things.

And now, after all these years… I still do.

Life Celebrations

Today we celebrate the ancient tradition of “Eostre.”

It began as the pre-Christian festival of spring and fertility – the rebirth of life after winter. 

The rabbit and egg were classic symbols of fertility and new life, used to honor the Vernal Equinox by many different cultures.

While traveling to other countries, I have been fascinated to discover a common thread, the ancient origins of the traditions we practice now.

One of the most striking examples was in Ireland, at the Hill of Tara and Newgrange. At these beautiful and sacred sites, you can see both Pagan and Christian beliefs honored. 

Respect for all is a true celebration of life.