Guardian Angels...

I believe in spirits. I always have. I'm not sure spirits is the right word. And they sure ain't ghosts. Ghosts have creepy implications. Maybe guardian angels, some with crooked halos? I like that. I should abbreviate that, my G.A.C.H.S.

 

My GACHS are loved ones that have passed into the greater beyond. Please don't judge me, they don't exactly fly around my house chatting with me. So far they haven't whispered the loto numbers or anything important like that. And they suck at stopping the slot machines one click early… But ever now and than they help.

 

I truly believe they are always with Bobby on traffic watch. Either that or I really do have super human powers. Occassionally a bad driver will try to nail us and I'll stick out my arm out and yell. Why? For that second, I honestly think I have the power to create a force field around the van. Don't know how, Don't know why. But it does work. Bob says its the silliest thing he ever seen. So what is easier to believe? GACHS protect us or my force fields steer away unwanted accidents?

 

My GACHS perform other duties. They control signal lights. They can even control the rain. Don't get me wrong they aren't all mighty but usually even in the worse downpours, there is almost always 5 seconds where I get less wet.

 

But finally, I got the proof I needed. I have GACH's. yesterday I did something very dumb. When I went to pick up Nicholas from the bus stop I didn't realize how cold it was outside. Come on folks, it's late march in Houston, I'm ready to buy a swim suit this weekend, not wear a jacket.

 

So its freezing. Nicholas and I are racing home. All of a sudden he hops on the back of my wheelchair, I'm giggling, or were my teeth chattering? Maybe both. Usually I don't let him ride but I got this new heavier wheelchair. and if i wanted him off, I'd have to stop to yell at him … besides, we were almost home. Blah blah blah.

 

Sidewalk ride was smooth. Crossing the street was a snap. I hit the driveway full speed and I feel myself falling backwards in slow motion. I scream at nick to get off because if the wheelchair fell on him, bones would break. He must of sense the urgency in my voice because he immediately hopped off, unharmed.

 

I felt a millisecond of relieve knowing Nicholas was safe. But then it occurred to me that I was still falling backwards. A million thoughts went through my mind. This is gonna really hurt. I hope bob rents a pressure steamer to wash the blood from the driveway.  Nicholas is such a good boy. He'll just go in and call 911 and his daddy. That is unless… Oh hell I think the tv is on. If it is, and its on cartoon network, I'm dead. Nicholas will be sucked into the tv and I'm gonna bleed to death…. Then I thought, ya know, I should lean forward… my last ditch effort before I… I closed my eyes and…

 

"Mommy can I have chocolate? I got a purple." I opened one eye as Nicholas tapped his fingers on my knee. Oh my god, my wheelchair was upright. The only thing more puzzling was how unaffected my son was by our near death experience. I was still stunned as Nicholas rattled on. "if you don't say no in three seconds, I'll take it as a yes." Where the hell did he get that mouth?

 

As I live and breeth I swear my GACHs gave me a push forward because with the angle, slope of the driveway, weight of my wheelchair, I should have flipped. Bottom line.

 

So thank you my spirits. Tonight I'll leave milk and cookies out for my sweet relatives, and a swig of whiskey for the questionable ones… and a thank you note… with extra paper… incase they wanna leave me a love note… or like lotto numbers…