Wild and Whirling Words

Last Tuesday before the snowstorm I opened my book of wild and whirling words. The book is really a journal I keep reserved for poetry quotes and notes from family and friends that hold great meaning to me. I need to know where it is at all times even if my life keeps me too busy to open it. When I get a chance it’s usually to add words that I believe are enlightening or heartfelt. On Tuesday, February 9th, I unexpectedly came across something I want to share. It is a ‘Thank You’ that I had received in 1966. My Mom had saved it for many years, giving it back to me a while ago. Cards and notes she saved for me trigger many of my early memories. My mother also was adept at telling original bedtime stories all of which began with ‘Once Upon a Time’. It may be that my reverence for words is based on this oral tradition common before people believed tv could entertain a child better than a loved one. Anyway, most of her stories centered around three little girls that went on adventures and interacted with a myriad of strange characters. Meanwhile, at times my own childhood could have served as a script. My Dad had very few friends that were not crazy and within this circle Mr. Ramisch was without a doubt certifiable. I write that with great affection for him. On the first occasion of meeting my Mother and myself he came to the house with a baby squirrel that he had found. He entered the house never mentioning the squirrel. It was climbing up his pant leg and immediately following introductions he unzipped his pants and to my Mom’s horror a baby squirrel scattered out. This tiny squirrel became mine and was kept in a birdcage in the kitchen and feed with a baby bottle. Maybe it was my love of this little squirrel that endeared me to him. Mr. Ramisch lived with his Dad in Northwest Bergen County. Their house was on a piece of property where hehad found many Lenape Indian artifacts and I loved them all, especially the arrowheads. He was kind enough to share with me, allowing me to bring them to school. To read between the lines of the note is to understand how he liked me…… however he hated his Dad. I remember as a child being surprised to hear how Mr. Ramisch had gotten into a fight with his father. A couple of days later, still angry, he cut a hole in the floor just inside the front door. He also cut the carpet and fitted it back in place. When his Dad arrived home and walked in he fell one floor to the basement and broke a few bones. Imagine reality tv in the sixties……

Anyhow, above is his ‘Valentine’ note to me that I treasure. The morning I had unfolded it I had just come in from feeding the birds and squirrels in the backyard because the next day the winter storm was to arrive. Seeing the date on the note was exactly 44 years ago when he reminded me not to ‘forget to feed the birds’ created wild and whirling happiness looking back on ‘Once Upon a Time’.