I have always been drawn to the modality of therapeutic massage. I believe strongly in the exchange of energies and the healing one can experience by receiving a “touch” from another human being. I know from personal experience, sometimes all we need is a hug, our hand held or to receive a timely message to feel a sense of calm that will allow us to heal. In 1999 I began my schooling in therapeutic massage, but more importantly I began a lifelong exchange of energies with someone who has touched my life.
The first day of school, I was sitting next to a beautiful black woman and she told me that her name was Dee. There was something about this woman I liked, something about her energy that drew me to her. Our teacher asked us to state our name and to tell the class something about ourselves. Dee said under her breath that she wasn’t going to do this, “He can’t make us do this.” I whispered to her, “If you don’t, I’m going to make up something about you.” She sat there shaking her head no and continued to do so when the teacher called on her. Being a woman of my word, I proclaimed with confidence, “This is Dee and she is an exotic dancer.” Without missing a beat, Dee chimed in and said, “That’s right honey, all I wear is beads, just beads.” I knew I liked her energy.
One day after class, I saw Dee heading to the bus stop. I asked her if I could give her a ride home. Turned out, she lived a few blocks from me and from that moment on, I became her ride. Our conversations were always a treat. Although Dee is older than myself, she has the spirit of child, a mischievous child. Dee had been a teen-aged mother and was on her third marriage. This husband was not only 15 years younger than herself, he was younger than her first child. He was a white male nurse who was also an ordained minister. Dee once said that she liked to wear her orange dress to church and say, “Here comes the minister’s wife!” with pride. As wild as she is, Dee is also deeply religious and tried to get me to join her church group. I gave it a try, joining in on parties and masses, but the spirit did not move me as much as her companionship did.
My family also enjoyed her companionship. My father being the hound dog that he was, really enjoyed her visits, but not as much as my children. When I would tell people that Dee was babysitting for me, I was asked if I was certain it wasn’t the other way around. Dee had an idea that one should give a child whatever they wanted and give them candy too. I once came home to find her having a pillow fight with the boys and she just looked at me and said, “It wasn’t me.” I sincerely believe that not only did she instigate the assault, she probably loaded them with sweets beforehand. No matter, they were having fun and at the end of the day, I know in my heart, she would never let them be in harm’s way.
Dee and I had plans of one day opening our own massage salon. She had the name picked out and everything, “Chocolate Spice and Vanilla Pudding”. I told her that I didn’t think people would get the correct intention of our business with a name like that. Besides, I didn’t want to be known as Vanilla Pudding, that sounds like a Hunt’s Snack Pack. Dee changed my name to Creamy Delight instead. One day she called me and said that she was standing in Dunkin’ Donuts and that my name was plastered all over the place. I was like, “Creamy Delight”? All I got was a mischievous giggle in response.
I told Dee all about my disastrous marriage and my many failed attempts to find a new mate. She told me that I wasn’t going to find someone until my children were grown because I was devoted to their well being. That was true and I understood what she was saying, but I was lonely. I told her that Valentine’s Day was hard on me, every year that passes by that I have no one to love, chips away at my soul. The first Valentine’s Day after meeting Dee, she made it a point to call me. She wanted me to know how much she loved me and that she was proud of me. To say I appreciated that gesture is a gross understatement. Most every year, she takes the time to reach out to me on Valentine’s Day and every year I feel blessed to have this soul in my life.
Chocolate Spice always tries to be upbeat, never wants to burden others with her woes. Near the end of our school year, after driving her to and from school for weeks without mention, Dee finally shared a woe of her own. Her 21 year old son was in a coma and was near death. Weeks earlier, he had been at a party where he went outside for some air and was shot. He had been battling for his life for weeks and she never said a word to me. I sat there stunned thinking how has she not said anything about this, not one word until now. We were due to take our final exam and Dee insisted on taking it. I told her that she had to say something to our teacher, that he would understand and let her make it up at a later date. Defiant as ever, she took the exam and passed and so did her son.
We only had that one class together, but over the years, we have remained friends. Always talking about opening our own massage business while sharing a bottle of wine in my backyard or on my front porch, scheming and dreaming about the day Chocolate Spice and Creamy Delight would become a reality. Unfortunately, one day she came to me and said that she was moving. Her husband had bought a house an hour’s drive away, but she would be still working in the area at the hospital. Of course, our visits became less and less frequent, but whenever I was near the hospital, I would stop in and try and see her. One time when I missed her, I called her later and said that I had stopped in. She said that she had been there and that I should have told them that I was her sister and they would have gotten her for me. Usually, I don’t have a pleasant connotation with the term sister, but with Dee, I know she really means it, she really thinks of me as her sister and I am honored.
Trying to keep her job at the hospital had been a challenge for years. This past fall, I received a message that broke my heart. Although Dee and I hadn’t visited much, now it was going to be next to never. Chocolate Spice was moving to AZ to be near her daughters and grandchildren. We tried to visit before she left, but as usual her obligations to her family didn’t allow it. I was heart broken, no hug? No last exchange of energies? We made promises to stay in touch, but the messages have been infrequent. I made it a point to message her on Valentine’s Day, I simply will not let that tradition die. There was a Mother’s Day message from her, greatly appreciated. She always respected my devotion to my children, even though her advice to me was that I needed to dress more like a hoochie mama if I was going to get a man. That Chocolate Spice, always well meaning, but mischievous.
This past week I received a cryptic text message from Dee. She was obviously upset and needed a hug. I wrote back, “What’s going on Chocolate Spice? How can I help?” and asked if she wanted to chat. A few hours later she responded, “When I return to Illinois for my brother’s funeral.” I sent my condolences and told her that my backyard and front porch are ready for consuming beverages and enjoying conversation and, “I love you!” No response, none needed.
The exchange of energies is not limited to space and time. We do not need to be in the same room, the same state, not even the same dimension to know, to feel, to experience each other’s love, compassion and mutual respect. There is a silent understanding that I have been blessed to know with this beautiful soul. Our paths crossed when we both needed them to. However, our energies are forever entwined no matter where our physical paths may lead us.
Whenever you’re ready Chocolate Spice, I’ll pour the wine.
Love, Creamy Delight.
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