Time To Change

If you grew up around the same time as I did, you definitely remember the TV show "The Brady Bunch" which was a huge part of my childhood. Now an adult and mother, I recently had occasion to bring one of those legendary episodes to mind. My boy Frack, almost 16 years-old, is currently experiencing an extreme, pubescent changing voice. It would seem that for me, life has imitated art.

It started a few months ago and very slight at first. I would hear the high pitch in his voice when he was talking, but just slightly and only sprinkled in conversation here and there. I even mentioned to him that I thought his voice might be changing, to which he made no comment to confirm it. After spending last week's vacation with the family, we are no longer searching for a cute, minimal pitch change here and there. Frack is in the middle of a full on, four alarm, squeaky, pitchy, voice change.

Frack was having a conversation with my dad, when he tried to casually call his name,

"Pa-PA?" The squeak in his voice, surprising even him.
"What the hell was that?" Frack replied.

We, of course, laughed and offered him our support. Throughout the week, it would pop into conversation. He would stop mid-sentence, revealing his frustration over this inconvenient rite of passage. Now he can't wait for it to be over.

Who really knows for sure how long it will take for the process to complete, but I'm sure Frack will roll with it until then. Just like those crazy Brady's say," it's time to re-arrange who you are into what you're going to be."

Out Of This World

Sorry about yesterday. I was in transit, on my way home from Florida. One of the things I don't like about air travel is when the plane hits a pocket of air and the craft drops quickly and dramatically. It really makes your life pass before your eyes and yesterday it made me think of a past life reading I had once, when I visited a fortune teller.

I went with some friends to a "tea room" and had the choice to have a life reading with tarot cards, tea leaves or have what they called a past life reading. I was intrigued, so I chose the past life reading. Now I know what you are going to say; that most of this sounds like complete bullsh*t and I won't even tell you how much I paid for it. (it was not a fortune) I've heard it all too, about them making up whatever they want, etc. But I will tell you this, I never forgot it.

The man that gave me the reading first told me that in a past life, I lived in London and came from a very wealthy and aristocratic family. I was a very well educated woman, married with children and I was a prominent barrister. At a young age, I was responsible for writing important laws, and worked in Parliment and had a very lucrative and fulfilling law practice. Hmmm, interesting. I immediately identified with the writer.

In my next life I was a male...HA! Really? He then told me that I was married and had two small children. I adored my wife and she passed away from illness at a very young age. He told me that I never really recovered from the death of my spouse and that I spent years in a deep depression which eventually ruined my business and my life. Interesting. At the time of my reading, I was in the process of a divorce and was not in a good place.

In my last life, he told me I was a black slave. I had endured a horrific trip over to the colonies by boat where I was beaten and raped but when I came here I was sold to a kind white woman who cared about me and educated me. I lived on a plantation and spent the majority of my days learning to read and sew. So interesting.

All this hocus pocus stuff is sort of a take it or leave it type thing. I had never really thought of a reading revealing any details from anything other than the life I was living in the present. Whether or not it's true will remain a mystery till my next life, possibly, but it certainly left an imperssion on me. So much so, that I called it to my memory in those small, air dropping minutes on the plane.

I guess your whole past lives can flash before your eyes too.