Hello Grandma

This morning I went to let the maniac dog outside and found a dead bird on my back stoop. You know how much I like birds. My windows are in serious need of cleaning so I have no idea how they can get confused enough to bash into them.

I felt a little prickle on the back of my neck. And not just because I will have to gather the courage to dispose of it. My superstitious grandmother thought a dead bird (or a wild bird that flies in your house) represents death.

About 30 minutes later, my mother called to inform me that her sister's husband had just lost his brother to an apparent heart attack.

I don't consider myself superstitious but hmmmm.

Good Luck Charms

Some people carry a four-leaf clover or a rabbit's foot. I would tell you I'm not superstitious but if you've read previous posts, you know it's not true. I also carry something with me or have it nearby.

The picture above is my good luck charm. It's my mother on the beach. It's the size of a postage stamp and it's weathered and time worn. Sometimes I pull it out of my pocket or my nightstand and ask, "What should I do?" Sometimes I make faces at it and say, "Ha Ha -- You can't make me!" Sometimes I forget to look at her; I just look at the water and understand why I tie my love of the water with my mother's love.

Sometimes I can crack up noticing that our bodies may have changed but yes, those are our legs in that swimsuit.

I like to think that I invented "Birthday Week." All it means is that you can do or say whatever you want. When I was talking to my mother the other day, she said, "Don't mess with me. It's my birthday week."

Yes, Mom, it is. You may not like the attention but I could line up scores of people who adore you. I could name child after child that you have influenced.

From a simple child who carries this photo as her good luck charm, Happy Birthday week and thank you.

Friday the 13th

My crazy grandmother would not leave her house on Friday the 13th. She believed in many curses and superstitions. I tell myself that I'm not superstitious. But there's a little paranoia that creeps in.

I don't walk under ladders and I don't open an umbrella indoors. I like black cats but I get a little nervous when they cross my path. Birds are creepy to me; a bird in the house makes something fire in my brain -- someone is going to die. Thanks Grandma.

You can talk yourself into anything. I'm a prime example but that's a different post.

They Come in Threes

My grandmother was very superstitious. (Bird in the house -- someone is going to die, don't walk under a ladder, etc.)

She was a big believer that death came in threes. It could be three Hollywood celebrities or three people you know.

I am not superstitious. But, within the last 3 (THREE) weeks, our dear friend and neighbor lost his mom, our dear friend lost his dad and we lost the Belle.

Is she tapping me on the shoulder or throwing a boulder?

Birds and Superstitions

I don't care for birds. They give me the creeps. I know they're beautiful and serve their purpose but they still make me a little crazy. Alfred Hitchcock didn't help but I mostly picked this up from my grandmother. She was very superstitious. A bird that accidentally flew into your house meant that someone close to you was going to die. There's an upper thought as you're running around your house with a broom trying to get the stupid creature to fly out.

I don't consider myself superstitious but I do feel the prickly hairs on the back of my neck when a black cat crosses my path or someone walks under a ladder. I think it's my grandmother saying, "I'm still here."

On vacation a few years ago, there was a child near me on the beach. He took great pleasure in throwing his chips in the air and all the seagulls would come flocking. My girlfriends were hysterical because I was having a meltdown. All of these birds swooping down! Hello, Alfred Hitchcock! Suddenly, I'm Tippi Hedren without the pretty hairdo. Not funny, Grandma!