Don't Bury Me Forever
A Memoir
by
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Turning dizzily, the boy tripped and fell to the sand. Picking himself up, he excitedly cried, “I flew! I flew!” The old Gypsy just looked at him with a slight smile. As the boy got in the boat, he looked up for his magical princess hawk, but she was nowhere to be seen. “I flew, I flew, I had wings, I saw a magic hawk and she made me fly, I was in the sky up really high, I saw everything in the world; I saw forever! I was a hawk!” The boy cried excitedly. The old Gypsy, pulling on the oars, nodded at him, and said not unkindly, “You can be whatever you want to be, child.” The boy just stared at him; not feeling believed. “But I did, I flew!” He said. “I know I did.” She giggled, thinking she was invisible in a huge space of darkness stretching out to infinity, and yet there were these dancing musical notes that were illuminated by some invisible source of light that drifted past her in a wonderful melody, like a school of slow swimming and brightly colored fish. Time seemed like an endless procession, coming out of the void in one colorful click after another, passing by her with gentle swooshes. Somewhere in the distance were voices and giggling and a few times Paula felt her body, wherever it was, moved around in a very sensual way. She couldn't really feel her body as a physical presence, but she could feel coils of sensuality rippling along in energy waves. Her mind was up against Brenda’s thigh, almost between her legs. Brenda’s thigh seemed to engulf her, and she fell deeper and deeper into a warm soft void. His sudden fear took his breath away, and he gasped for air at the cold, hard feel of the gun promising instant death against his head. His whole world seemed to suddenly come to this one point between light and dark and he felt as if he were teetering on the abyss to sudden, irrevocable darkness. Everything around him stood out crystal clear, every detail. The glass on his lap, the dust covering the royal blue of the dash board, the key dangling from the ignition. “Master . . . John, is going to be leaving us for a few days and has instructed me to tell you that you can stay as long as you like, and that we will take you to Las Taranas whenever you are ready. I would love for you to stay and keep me company.” Before I could respond, Elsa came out carrying a tray of yummy finger foods for breakfast, with coffee, and orange juice. She didn’t bat an eye at Diane but smiled sweetly as she cheerfully said, “Good morning, Ma’am” Diane looped the hanging end of her leash through one of the three large rings on her collar, so that the loop hung between her breasts, and sat next to me. She poured some orange juice into a glass and offered it to me. “Please stay, I would love for you to stay, I feel that we have so much in common, and Master really likes you and thinks you could be a wonderful companion for me.” “Oh, as another slave?” I laughed.
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About the Book
This is a story about becoming one's self. It is about not taking the easy road, the road that is expected of us, the road our parents and our peers try to steer us down. Rather it is about searching for authenticity, that being we were born, the net sum of all our ancestors before us. It is a story of suffering, not the suffering of poverty, or war, or cruel parents. It is the suffering of not being allowed to be authentic. This is a story about learning to be what one is not, in order to survive, and then re-learning to be authentic.
Spanning over sixty years and two continents, we follow the story of a little boy, whose birth took over seventy two hours and was in the midst of a war. After spending four years in a children's nursing he is reclaimed by his mother, only to be sent to a boarding school. It is at the boarding school that he develops a severe stutter and to all intents and purposes becomes a mute for ten years. His school holidays are divided between his paternal grandparents and his mother and stepfather who manages large farming estates for wealthy lords. The little boy has a strong affinity for wild creatures that he finds in abundance on the farms.
The little boy grows up in constant conflict that leads to attempted suicide, bad choices, prisons, misery, hurt and pain not just for himself but for those around him, too.
The story runs parallel to the life of a woman and starts some fifty years after the birth of the little boy. This woman has experienced an awakening, thanks in large part to her pursuit of love. Her story starts with her lesbian friend Elsa. When Elsa decides to leave her after they had been together for three years, she heartbrokenly moves in with a couple, Richard and Lani. Her story becomes about overcoming jealousy, finding herself and finding a deeper meaning to love. She becomes a dominatrix for women. Some years later at the age of sixty two, she decides to travel alone through the America's with only a backpack and a wide openness to life and the world. Claiming to be ten years younger, her outrageous adventures take her to The Dominican Republic, The Caribbean, Jamaica, Costa Rica, a ranch in Colorado and an expensive home in New Jersey.
About the Author
This is not a pretty story, it is not a comfortable story, but it is a true story written in her own words, about a woman’s search to overcome prejudices and fear and to find love and her personal truth in a world of extremes. A story of rags and riches, intimacies, drugs, communal living, facing death, detention, prison, exotic travel, pollyamory, gender crossing, family, empathy, epiphanies, visions and ultimate forgiveness. A story of two conflicting and fear driven personalities and how one desperately attempts to eliminate the other, yet ultimately fails for lack of authenticity. Spanning two continents and over fifty years, this is a painful but often hilarious accounting of a wild and ultimately joyful ride of becoming true to oneself; of being born and reborn. This is a story that suggests that sinners can indeed become saints. That love truly is the path to happiness. That as we choose to regard life, so becomes our world, our reality. This is a story about finding the beginning. The author lives in Santa Cruz in a shared house overlooking Monterey Bay. She has been a speaker for Triangle Speakers, a program that serves the Santa Cruz community in helping to eliminate fear and prejudices against Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, and Transgendered (GLBT) individuals, so that a healthy environment exists for everyone in her community. She is deeply committed to her spiritual path of unconditional love. Two of her favorite sayings are, "We love the person, but do not have to love their words or actions." . . . and "Who know's if it's good or bad?"