Boomerang

Another good night’s sleep. That’s seven in a row now. When I walked away, I started sleeping again. I took a chance on me and don’t even think about you anymore. I was scared and did it anyway. I knew the adjustment would take time; I wasn’t prepared for the rollercoaster of emotions though. I do what I want, when I want and feel good for the first time in years. This mind/body/soul cleansing, it's messy, unpredictable and long term. It's my path and it's divine, even when it doesn't look that way.

It’s a spectacular day. One of those filled with sunshine and sparkles. Well over a foot of fresh snow dropped last night and it's clear skies. I’m hoping for a rainbow and unicorns to show up by lunch. For now, I get to work finishing a painting. It’s turning out nicely. I put on my paint shirt. Maybe I can manage to keep paint out of my hair today. As if that has ever happened. I get in a zone while I’m painting or writing. Time slips away and I enter another world. I hear the doorbell. It sounds far away. I look out the window and see a tall wavy haired blonde man. He has kind, light brown eyes. Huh. Interesting. I open the door; “Good morning. Can I help you?” “Hi, good morning. I’m looking for Iris Stanley. Does she live here?”

“Forgive me. What’s this about? Who are you?” “Sorry. I’m Leo Bridges. I’m here to give her something from her dad. He left it in my dad’s care thirty, forty years ago. I know, it’s strange. My dad, Michael S. Bridges, was his attorney. He defended your dad in some big case with the recording industry; it tore pops up what those bastards did to your dad. You were young and may not remember.”

I remember all too well and take a deep breath. Here we go. “I’m Iris Stanley. Come on in Leo; get warm. Would you like coffee? It’s your lucky day; I have lemon blueberry breakfast bread ready to cut.” “Thank you, Iris, both sound great”. “You can take your boots off here. If you need extra socks let me know. Have a seat when you’re shoeless. “I’ll take those socks please Mam; it’s colder than expected.” “It's Iris not mam please. Do you take cream and sugar in your coffee Leo? Here are those socks.” “Nope. Just plain coffee, thank you Iris. I like your place. Nice view; peaceful. With dad’s passing, things have been a bit stressful.”

"I’m sorry about your dad. It’s difficult when someone we love passes. You love him and he loves you; that’s all you need to know.” I bring coffee and bread to the table. “Let’s eat, then see what our fathers cooked up.” "Okay" chuckles Leo, "Sounds good” and we eat in silence.

“That was good bread. You like to cook?” “I like baking. I cook meals because I can’t live on sweet bread and cookies.” Leo hands me a large envelope. In my dad’s handwriting is my full name, birth time, date and place written on the outside. I know dad's handwriting anywhere. I pour out the contents. There’s a letter from Leo’s dad, a sealed blue envelope and a small black notebook. “My dad wrote me a letter about your envelope Iris. I’d like to read it to you.” Tears well up in my eyes; all I can manage is to nod my head to Leo ‘yes’ as he reads aloud:

Dear Leo.

I must ask you to fulfill a promise. Please take care of this personally and find the woman whose information is written on the envelope. Her last known location and other information I’ve kept as current as possible is included along with a picture when she was 16. I ask that you do this in person; at the very least, she deserves that. Give her all three items: little black book, blue envelope and my letter addressed to her. Thank you Son.

Love,

Papa

I’m overflowing with emotion. My most powerful practice now is self-inquiry; it’s a miracle worker. I silently ask myself, “what do I need here? “Excuse me a minute Leo. I need some oils before I dive into all of this. Help yourself to more coffee and bread if you want.” “Thank you. I will.” Leo heads to the kitchen wondering what does oil have to do with any of this. As if I heard Leo’s thought I say, “I use essential oils every day. They're a huge part of my healing practice, my life. I just used Acceptance and Forgiveness.” I settle myself and read aloud the letter addressed to me from Leo’s dad.

Dear Iris,

Years ago, I promised your dad I would get this to you after he & I both passed. He said you would need it at that time; you would be ready and use it for good works. Your dad was a bit eccentric but since it’s completely legal, I agreed to hold it until such time came which is obviously now.

I entrust my son Leo to put this in your hands. I hope you’re well and have found your way. Remember to laugh every day even through the tears.

Truly yours,

Michael S. Bridges

“I remember your dad. He and that creepy investigator came for dinner one night. I liked your dad. He had a kind smile; he talked to me. I remember because that was one of the last really fun nights we had after the arrest.” Leo adds, “That investigator was definitely freaky. I always made myself scarce when he was around. He got better when he quit drinking.”

I open the blue envelope. It’s full of cash. I blurt out "whaaat" and my jaw drops fully open; pretty sure Leo can see my tonsils. I pull out the money and start laughing. I’ve never seen this much cash before, least of all in my hands. I look at it for a minute and then put it back in the envelope. I'm beginning to understand. On to the black book. It’s obviously been opened a lot. At the top of the first page is a date: “August 2, 1974”. That wasn’t long after dad was arrested and then released on bail. Below the date is: “Total amount in holding: $20,000 cash”, both men’s signatures and the date again. It was even notarized. On the next page is a withdrawal slip for $19,982.98 from the bank dated the same day which closed the account; daddy rounded it up. The next page is the bank book showing every transaction for 7 years. Pages and pages showing only deposits. The rest of the notebook has letters to me from dad. A bunch of them. I’ll read those later.

I get up and start pacing; it helps me work things out. Whizzing through my mind are a thousand questions starting with, why am I so comfortable with this complete stranger? Still pacing I say, “It’s ironic that my dad pushed me hard about work ethic. Crime was his job; he was pretty good at it for a long time. We always had plenty of money. He would say; “Iris, work hard, save money, be honest and go to college. Don’t be like your dad.” He was so proud when at 9 years old I opened my first bank account to start saving for college; he was the trustee since I was underage. I deposited every penny from working a thousand odd jobs and watched it grow. I was excited for college. I secretly hoped to study art in Europe. After the verdict and sentencing with Marshalls graciously waiting to take dad off to prison, he said to me, “Iris, I threw a $20,000 boomerang once upon a time. It returns, you’ll see.” I dismissed it as weird dad stuff. I never saw him again.”

I continue, “I still planned on attending college after high school which was less than a year away. Three months before graduating high school early, sitting at the dining room table filling out the local community college application, my drunk mother said: “give it up Iris; your college money is gone. Your dad stole it. The account is closed. Let it go. Get a job.” Dad was scandalous for sure so it wasn’t a stretch to think he stole my money. It didn't make sense though. I checked at the bank the next day, the account was closed. I was heartbroken; so thoroughly crushed I buried it deep inside. Thirty some odd years later you show up, all cute and stuff. I find out my dad isn’t the complete dirt bag I thought he was, the savings I believed was long gone I now have in cash, and this whole thing is completely legal. How on earth is this possible? “After 10 years as a criminal defense attorney, my dad sat on the Federal bench for 20. Pretty sure this is all legal.” Leo assures. I laugh nervously. “I need to sit down”. Leo asks, “Would you like some water? So, you think I’m cute? “My water cup is over there. The metal one. Yup, that’s it. Thank you. This is all a little overwhelming.”

I get more oils and we sit in silence for a few minutes. There was no awkwardness or need for explanation. The crystals in the window make a rainbow on the wall. There it is. I live a magical life. We started to talk after a while. We laughed and cried through the night. It was lighthearted and authentic. As if our best friend from a thousand years ago returned. It freed us both from the invisible chains of our fathers. My perception is forever shifted. I don't know everything, even about my own experiences. I was way off on this one. I didn't have a clue what really happened. Isn't that interesting. The real gift here is my dad. I accepted a lie as truth and it followed me everywhere. It was in everything and everyone as a reflection. I didn’t understand. I forgot about the boomerang and lost faith. I’m sorry daddy.

“I’ll be going now Iris. I need some sleep.” “I need sleep too. Thank you for finding me Leo. Thank you for giving me back my dad. Thank you.” “It’s my pleasure. Your father would be proud of you Iris. And, about that cash, I would have a high-end auction house plus a couple appraisers look at those bills before you turn them into a bank. The Treasury department printed some limited edition 20’s and 100’s in 74. Could be worth more than what’s on the bill.” “Wow, thanks Leo. I’ll look into it. If you ever come around this way again, it would be great to see you. Send me a text or something; here’s my number.”

Leo steps outside, turns around and says; “I’ll be around this way tomorrow. Will you have lunch with me?” Taking more than a few seconds to respond, I say, “I’ll see you at 2:00 tomorrow afternoon Leo Bridges.” We both smile and I close the door. Now, where is that unicorn?