These Boots Were Made For Walking...

Wow...so I read back on my blog today only to (accidentally) discover...and even re-discover... many things about myself. I haven't written in my blog for awhile...gosh...a few years, actually! I think it is time to catch-up on a few things. So, I have decided to continue...

Lots to share, to ponder...re-access, wonder...! Time to catch, time to kill...time will tell...time will heal. But for now, I will begin with a story...a story of a garden that I wrote a year ago, about an experience I had many years ago. A person I knew for only a few hours...A person I will never forget!

I hope you enjoy the read...

“A Garden”

by Gypsie Fireflower

“To find yourself, think for yourself.” 
-Socrates

“Today is the day!” I said aloud as I awoke to a blue sky. After a rainy week, I was ready to get some fresh air. I grabbed my camera and off I went. As I walked, I came across a beautiful garden. “I’ll start here,” I thought. While removing my camera from its case, I hear the soft voice of a woman. “Are you a Photographer?” she asked. Startled, I answered, “I am today!” I laughed. I had not noticed the woman sitting on the bench, until she spoke. I walked towards her and introduced myself, “Hi…my name is Gypsie.” She smiled and seemed entertained. “I am Percy,” she said. Percy was an elderly woman with long braided hair. “Do you know the story of this garden…do you visit here often?” I asked. “Oh, I don’t know the story of this garden,” she giggled, while she adjusted her dress out from under her. “I visit every day…I live right over there,” she said, as she pointed to a duplex across from the courtyard. “Would you like to join me for tea?” she asked, without hesitation. Ordinarily I would have politely refused, but I was intrigued--so I accepted the invitation.

As we entered into Percy’s home, the room was poorly lit and furnished with antiques. Hanging on the wall was an isolated frame that displayed a portrait of a man. Stuck in the frame was a postcard of the “Little White House” in Pine Mountain, Georgia. “Have a seat, Gypsie, while I start the water,” she said, as she disappeared into the kitchen. I sat down on the couch. Percy walked into the living room with a tray in her hands. “Do you take honey?” she asked. “Yes, thank you,” I replied. As we sipped our tea, I couldn’t help but stare at the portrait and the post card hanging on the wall in front of me. “That is my late husband,” Percy said. As our conversation continued, I felt that my life was about to change…

Percy grew up on a farm and was the only child. Her Father was an abusive man--they were very poor. “I remember I used to daydream of marrying and having many children,” Percy said. Then she added, “My Daddy used to scold me for daydreaming…It would upset him…I feared my Daddy.” Percy then mentioned a young man named Charles, who gave her flowers and heart shaped rocks. When Percy’s Father found out about the gifts, he forbid Percy to interact with Charles and threatened him if they continued. “We were so in-love,” she said. Percy had warned Charles of her Father’s threat, but it didn’t stop Charles from seeing Percy. In fact, he asked her to marry him…

While I listened to Percy, I had forgotten about tea and photography. “Are you married, Gypsie?” Percy asked. “Yes, I am,” I answered. “Are you happy?” Percy asked. “ Um, yes…I am,” I stuttered, as I sipped my forgotten tea. The truth was, I wasn’t happy--certainly not with my marriage. In an attempt to change the subject, I pointed to the portrait and said, “Charles was a handsome man.” Percy responded, “Oh, that is not Charles…my husbands name was Frank.” Percy stared down at her cup. I thought to myself, “What happened with Charles?” Out of the blue, Percy asked, “Are you an independent woman, Gypsie?” The question threw me off-guard, but I answered, “I am very independent.”

 Percy sat her cup down onto the table and looked up at me as if my short answers weren’t convincing, but she carried on anyway…“I didn’t even know what the word independent meant when I was younger…I had to look it up in the dictionary,” she giggled. “I guess I always thought that independence had something to do with money or misbehaving…do you know what the definition of independent is in the dictionary, Gypsie?” Before I could answer, Percy commented, “Well, I never had any money and I wasn’t one to misbehave…so, I never thought of myself as independent.” Percy chuckled at her own sarcasm.

Percy moving onto another subject besides Charles, disappointed me, but I figured it was her turn since I changed the subject earlier. “Did you and Frank have any children?” I asked. “No…so we traveled,” Percy answered.  “To Pine Mountain?” I asked. Percy suddenly burst into laughter and slapped her knee. I couldn’t help but laugh along with her. “What was so funny?” I thought. “No…Frank and I never went to Pine Mountain.” Then suddenly Percy blurts out, “Free from outside control is what independence means…to be your own person!” Then she asked, “Gypsie, are you your own person?” Like Percy, my life had always been dictated to me. So the answer would have been, no. I wasn’t as independent as I had claimed. Instead of answering Percy’s question, I had to know, so I asked, “What happened with Charles?” Percy paused. The look of regret on her face broke my heart. Percy answered, “I didn’t marry Charles, because I was a good daughter. I didn’t think for myself…I did what I was told,” she continued, “Frank was a good provider, but very controlling. I never loved him like I loved Charles. I had always wanted to visit Pine Mountain…we would pass the exit all the time. I would ask if we could stop, but Frank never would. I didn’t argue, because I was a good wife.” My eyes began to water, “I am so sorry, Percy,” I said. Her answer left me speechless. “Don’t feel sorry for me, Gypsie,” she said with a big smile on her face, “when Frank died, the first thing I did was visit Pine Mountain…I finally got to see The Little White House.” Percy smiled from ear to ear. Then, she said (while referring to the portrait), “The first thing I did when I got home, was stick that post card in Franks face!” Percy blushed as she snickered. Percy ended the conversation with, “Life can be hard sometimes, but never lose yourself in the process. It took me my entire life to figure that out. Learn from me, Gypsie…”

After tea that day, I had in-fact learned from Percy. It was time for me to make some changes in my life. About 8 months later, I divorced my husband and decided to re-locate and finish my college education. For the first time, like Percy…I was happy. The day before my move, I visited Percy to say goodbye, only to hear that she had passed away. As I strolled through the garden for the last time, I looked over at the bench where Percy once sat. I could almost hear her voice say to me, “Be your own person, Gypsie.” Even though I never got a chance to share with Percy how she changed my life, through her encouraging words of strength and independence…I will never forget her. While leaving the garden, a story was born. A story of a woman who helped me to become the person I deserved to be…(me)! A story that began with a garden. “Thanks Percy,” I whispered softly, as I walked away…