Doubt I Am Unique

I doubt if I am unique but I love to play, draw, dance and cartoon. I like staring for hours at oak trees, dead leaves, cats and the moon. I yelled “no” to my first grade teacher which labelled me for life. I never wanted to be a girl, woman, or anyone’s girlfriend or wife. Peter Pan lives in my soul along with Pippi Longstocking and Oliver. Books became my best friends; especially The Tollbooth Tolliver. Nightly I sit with two I-pads on my lap, playing hours of word games. I paint four to six paintings a week, cartoons of women of Thames. Ten grandchildren know me as the fun-loving wild woman of Me. “Be you” is a theme I paint on practically every painting they see. Many express surprise that I am sixty-eight, which I think is great. I plan to learn new things until the day I end up at the pearly gate. I thought I had created my own spirituality until I read some books. Native Americans have always believed in the same; this reality shook. I am clairaudient and clairsentience – seeing and hearing the deceased. There is nothing unique about me, except my hair is incredibly greased.