Orbs

Monticello has the title of one of the most haunted small towns, or the most haunted small town in the south.  I hate to exaggerate if we are one of a couple.  It wouldn't be fair to the other small towns who need to have a title of importance.  We don't have the world's largest ball of string, or ball of tin foil.  We used to be the Watermelon seed capital of the world.  Prince Edward Island is famous for their mussels, sold all over the world, but they also used to be known as the potato seed capital of the world.  I haven't been there in maybe 20 years so I don't really know about the potato thing any more.  I used to know it because when I went to PEI an Agriculture Cop stopped us at a gate and asked if we had any potatoes.  They must hear more people sing, "Yes we have no bananas" more than anyone else on the planet.  At least when they were the seed potato capital.  Like I said, I no longer know for sure.  Of course when the song burst forth from the car (I am not taking credit for something I laughed at, but really did not have any other part of it) he became red faced and started grabbing at the door handle and yelling at us to get out.  Realizing the seriousness of the situation I quickly grabbed all potato related products.  An empty bag of chips that had come with a sandwich and a cooler with some sad looking veggies that were not related to potatoes.  He was not appeased and demanded that the hatch back of my Saturn be lifted so he could sniff out any rogue potato parts.  Now, we were backing up.  It was always a challenge to pop the back and grab things as they were flung out by the force of the back popping and things that had shifted during long stretches of driving.  So as he pushed the eject button, I simply stepped back betting that the fire wood I had insisted on caring across the continent would be the first flung objects.  And it was, and the logs smashed into his legs and feet as gravity restored its presence.  No potatoes, potato products or seed potatoes were found.

By I have lost the point here, as usual.  It is just commonly known that around every corner  here are ghostly remains.  Very few of these ghosts have names.  There is the pink lady, the lady on the stairs (who might be the pink lady, but I don't think so) and of course Mr. Perkins.  Mr. Perkins' name is on the building.  The Perkins Building printed out in brick.  He is like a well loved uncle that really none of us ever met, but feel we did because he is an everyday part of our Opera House.  Everyone who has given over a piece of their heart to that building have their own relationship with Mr. Perkins.  Some call on him prior to a performance and every successful production gives him credit of some kind.  It is odd to speak of the dead so recently after The Day of The Dead (A celebration not practiced here, hmmmmm) but thinking of Mr. Perkins gives us the same feeling of belonging and being looked over.  Maybe Mr. Perkins is one of the orbs at the Opera House.

The first time I experienced the orbs was not with a ghost hunter.  No, it was Ms Moon taking photos as we prepared for one of our Radio Plays.  We were dolled up in makeup that we wore more on the stage than in the real world.  She took a couple of photos looking out from the stage into the seats. And when she went to upload them the photo was filled with orbs.  We had looked from that stage out into the audience and had not seen anything there.  But here were floating bubbles in the photos.  Just as clear as day.  Barely visible and yet clearly there.  Iridescent bubbles of different sizes and colors.  Some at the ceiling.  Others lower, but clearly bubbles.  It would be later that I would learn the term from these was orbs and that they are as important to some ghost hunters as the holy grail.  I have since seen many more photos containing these things.  I make no judgment of who or what they are.  I studied insects.  I will let those who have studied of these things to speak what they believe they might be. 

This past weekend the Opera House obtained another orb.  Our dear friend George King who had danced across those floors, lovingly frustrating us and thrilling us with his talent joined those bubbling orbs.  He had become more and more a part of that building and those who love it.  I can't imagine another murder mystery without George.  He wasn't in all of the plays.  George and his honey loved to travel.  He loved to pick and fix small appliances and he loved his kids and his dogs.  He and his wife were devoted.  He was an all around good guy.

He could be a handful to a Director always coming up with new ideas and getting Steven to back him.  Of course when the Director listened to them all the way through, gave it consideration and then said no, he was fine.  But do not try to skip any of the steps with him.  He needed to understand and it had to make sense.  He was a mathematician.  It balanced his theatrical side.  

George is not the first we have lost from our Stage Company.  People who were a part of that group long before I ever dreamed of seeing a performance at the Opera House have come and gone.  Each leaving their own personal hand print on the company as well as the Board of Directors for the Opera House.  Each person mourned by their fellow thespians.  When Colin died a few years ago I wasn't sure how any of us could breathe, let alone get back up on that Stage without him.  But he had time to prepare us.  He had pulled a couple from the Company aside and they knew everything and took care of the rest of us as we had to put ourselves back together.  I would bet that none of us have even removed Colin's phone number from our cells.  I know I haven't.  I also know that I would no more remove Colin, my Father or George from my phone.  Each one of them so very special to me, each in their own way.  No comparisons, just people I have loved.  

George did not know he was going to die this past weekend, so he did not have the time to take care of us.  Colin died of cancer, we didn't know he was dying of cancer, but he did, and he could take care of us.  George was here and then he wasn't.  Jack and Jan have had to step in to take care of us.  I know that by taking care of us, they are taking care of each other.  Life does go on, or so the saying goes.

Maybe I am just being emotional today because it is Veterans Day.  I am a hippie that married a warrior.  I feel a responsibility to both of our beliefs.  He of protection and mine of peace.  I see no reason I can not understand and respect both sides.  I do have to say that I can't watch anymore movies about war and dying for the day.  I am wounded by this latest loss, just too fresh.  I did see Taking Chance, a movie about bringing home a dead marine.  It was brutal.  It was amazing and I cried through it, but it was brutal and I think it was meant to be. 

I have not been feeling so great the last couple of days, and actually last night I was awake for most of the night being sick and lying awake pulling the goose up over my sweat soaked gown and then ripping it back away from me.  I finally emptied my stomach around 5 am and was no longer sick that way, but I was pitiful.  Sometimes I forget that I can still get something as mundane as the stomach flu when I have the little c.  It is obvious to me now that it is more than possible.  That might be another reason why I am so teary. 

I wasn't up to going to the parade, but Bug went.  I am glad that he did.  I am glad that I stayed home.  Looking at photos posted by the Opera House, it looks like a lot of loved ones were in that parade and showing their respects to Veterans.  I love this place.  You can be who you are, completely and respectfully, and be very very happy here.

I wonder if I took photos of those who had lost loved ones in the military had any orbs surrounding them? 

I wonder why I never thought about Colin being an orb at the Opera House.  If all those orbs are individuals, who are they?  I mean Jefferson County has neither grown nor shrunk much since it was made a county.  We have just about the same amount of people within like a thousand or so.  Did all of those orbs have names?  Is Colin one of those orbs?  Colin, who loved and gave so very much to the Opera House as an orb there.  Maybe I can not imagine Colin settling down into an orb.  Maybe it is the only way I can deal with George's death when so very many people are remembering loved ones gone.

Maybe everyone is not gone. 
Maybe they are orbs bobbing around watching over places and people they love. 
Will I become an orb?
Hmmmmm, I may have to think about that. 
They were beautiful the ones I have seen. 
I am not an orb yet, so I guess I better go drink some more water and see if I can get over this what ever it is.

Blessed be George....... and Colin ............ and Daddy

I am sure you would all be beautiful orbs if that is what you want to become.