( A little back story.....About three or four years prior to the following events, I had started a novel that was a twist on the story of "The Ghost and Mrs. Muir". The working title was, "For All We Know" which I took from the song by Sam M. Lewis and J. Fred Coots. I like the song and it seemed appropriate for the subject. Basically, it was going to be about a young woman plagued with agoraphobia who develops a close relationship with the spirit of a famous silent film star. Through her relationship with him, she is able to emerge from her fears. Her introduction to him is purely coincidence. She receives the wrong DVD, a silent version of a movie instead of the more modern one. I wrote one particularly emotional scene where she decides to watch the film just for giggles. She is mesmerized by watching him. When the film is finished, she is so moved by what she's seen and by him, she's sitting in front of the TV and is crying. At least that's the gist of it. I had gotten a few chapters written before I hit a brick wall. I never could seem to get the plot right. Nothing I tried worked. It was just wrong. I got discouraged, shelved the novel and forgot it.)
Leading up to the morning of May 6, 2008, I had been bothered by intermittent flashes of images. Mostly, they were impressions of photographs I had seen of Rudy. He kept popping into my mind, uninvited! Oddly, some of the flashes were not familiar, and were more like video clips. I hadn't seen photographs that looked like these, certainly no videos. Places looked and felt familiar, yet I knew I had never seen them before. Flashes of his face, some serious, some laughing, some where he did not look well. Once again, practical me brushed these aside. They were goofy, unexplainable occurrences, so weren't worth the time or bother.
The morning of May 6th. I started packing for the trip to Ireland the next day. I turned on the TV for some noise while I worked, and TCM came on. There was Rudy! It was one of his films. So far, the only ones I had seen were "The Sheik" and "The Son of the Sheik". I quickly checked and saw that the entire day's schedule consisted of his films. What a coincidence, I thought. Then it dawned on me. It was his birthday. He was born on May 6, 1895! I looked at the schedule and saw that they were going to run "The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse." I was excited. I knew I had a DVD coming, but at least I would get to see the famous film without having to wait. It was scheduled to run early afternoon. I hurried and finished my packing.
I started watching the movie, sitting comfortably in my chair. What can I say? I was shattered by the film and the story. Rudy was so incredibly beautiful and compelling from the moment he appeared on screen, he took my breath away. As the film continued, he seemed to pull me closer and closer to him. At the end of the movie, I had literally gotten up and was sitting on the floor in front of the TV. I was crying so hard, I struggled to get a breath. I have never felt anything like that. I wanted to smash my arms through the screen so I could touch him. I felt as if I was going to start screaming. My throat tightened to the point of pain. Grief swept over me like a tsunami. I hadn't felt such gut-wrenching grief since my father died. I wanted to rip my heart out, anything to stop that pain. I was wild and very confused because I had no idea where all the emotion was coming from. This wasn’t just a consequence of watching the movie. This was something else.
As I sat there hugging myself, rocking on the floor, it hit me. I suddenly realized that I was living a scene that I had written over three years previously. To say I was stunned would be a gross understatement. My mind started whirling with questions and unacceptable answers. I got up and began pacing throughout the house. There had to be some kind of rational explanation. God, I wanted to talk to someone, run it by them and get an objective opinion. I wanted to tell someone what was happening, but I couldn't. Who could I tell? First, there was no one, and second, if I tried, they would think I was ready for the rubber room! The more I thought about it the more convinced I became that something terrible was happening to my sanity (that nasty little seed began to germinate). I tried to shove all those thoughts away. Stop thinking about it!
As the afternoon wore on, I was finally able to get control of myself. I think I even appeared normal to my husband when he got home. As I lay in bed, an oppressive sadness settled over me, and I muffled my crying in a pillow. I was bombarded by images I couldn't stop. That night sleep would not come easily.
No comments:
Post a Comment