This story is true – except I don’t know how much of it is true.
I was visiting my Mother when she was 93, one year before she died. My Mother was one of the most intelligent and sharp-witted people I have ever met, but just recently she had become “fey”, that is sometimes she was sure something hadn’t happened when it had, or thought something had happened when it hadn’t.
So in this frame of mind she told me the following story, with great conviction and also she seemed driven to tell me as if it was very important.
She told me when she was very young, in Australia, she had been playing in the Bush. She was by a stream and turned to see a young aboriginal boy about her own age. My Mum, the whitest of white skin who couldn’t take any sun and had to wear hats with wide brims, blue eyes, blonde curly hair, and the boy the complete opposite, so dark, with dark curly hair. They stared at each other.
That was it. My Mother seemed relieved she had told me.
I was bemused. To my Mum this was very important. She thought it was significant and that I needed to know. But what did it mean? Had it even happened? She had never mentioned it before.
When I thought about it I decided the reason my Mother hadn’t mentioned it before was because she wasn’t sure it had happened . Yes, she had seen an aborigine boy who had seemed fascinated by her strange appearance. But what she hadn’t been sure of was if he had he really been there.
Also it seemed some understanding had passed between them which my Mother had found unnerving. The aborigine boy belonged to the land. She didn’t.
When I was young my Mother had told me some things about the Australian aborigines. About their connection to the land, the “Dreamtime”. In dreams time does not really exist.
Did the “boy” whether he was there or not, and without saying anything, tell my Mother to go home? Is that why she felt she had to tell me because the event was significant.
When she grew up she met a Radio Officer in the Merchant Navy whom she married, and came to live in the countryside just outside Belfast, Northern Ireland, just a few miles from where her father, who had emigrated to South Australia, was born.
Copyright 2014 Prayerwarriorpsychicnot
In memory of my mother Lillian Ilma Agnew (nee Johnston) 1918-2012
Born in Port Pirie, South Australia