Dear readers....

As Blair and I prepared for our adventure, Tracy couldn’t resist a playful, yet somewhat serious, comment: “You two don’t get into any trouble. I don’t want to be at the football game and get a call from the police to come get you two.” She was being her usual funny and sarcastic self, but little did we know how her words would come to life later in the day.

Now, let me take a step back and share a peculiar experience I had earlier in the week. I awoke in the early morning hours with a shocking sensation. It felt as if everything around my head was drenched in liquid, and I feared the worst – that my head was lying in a pool of blood on my pillow. It was a surreal and eerie moment, the kind that makes your skin crawl. In that disorienting state between sleep and wakefulness, I couldn’t help but wonder if it was a message from the spirit world, perhaps one of our ancestors trying to communicate with me.

On this particular day, we chose to explore the mausoleum – the oldest one in the cemetery. It housed the remains of some of Angola’s founders from the 1830s, including Judge Thomas Gale and Sarah Gale. As we opened the door and stepped inside, a sinking feeling overcame me. The mausoleum had been desecrated, its sacred space tarnished by the thoughtless actions of others. Clothes, empty food bags, and even a bucket of human feces marred the historic site.

I couldn’t stand by and watch this piece of history crumble under neglect, so I made a decision. Blair and I took it upon ourselves to clean up the mess. It was a dirty job, but it felt like the right thing to do. Our ancestors deserved better, and we wanted to honor their memory.

With the mausoleum cleaned up to the best of our abilities, we decided to take our concerns to the local police station. On our walk there, Blair and I shared our frustration and disappointment in the actions of those who had shown such disrespect for a place that held so much history and meaning.

At the police station, we reported the situation and voiced our worries about the future of this beautiful piece of history. Our hope was that by bringing attention to the issue, we could help protect it from further degradation.

As Blair and I continued our journey, we couldn’t help but reflect on the deeper meaning of our morning adventure. We had encountered the worst and best of human behavior – the thoughtlessness that led to the mausoleum’s desecration and the compassion that inspired us to take action.

But there were more surprises in store for us. Along our path, we found unexpected gifts. Some flowers, a heart-shaped blue gem, and even a cat with a purple collar crossed our path. These moments felt like rewards, a sign that we were on the right track, doing right by our ancestors, and listening to the call of the spirits.

In hindsight, I couldn’t help but connect the dots back to that eerie awakening earlier in the week. Maybe, just maybe, it had been a message from Sarah Gale or another ancestor, trying to tell me what was happening at the mausoleum. Perhaps they were guiding us, urging us to protect the resting place of their memories.

When we finally returned home, I couldn’t resist calling Tracy to share the day’s events. I chuckled as I told her that Blair and I had indeed ended up at the police station, just as she had jokingly predicted that morning.

In the end, dear readers, this adventure taught us that there is meaning in the seemingly ordinary moments of life. It reminded us of the importance of respecting our history and honoring our ancestors. And it reinforced the idea that sometimes, messages from the spirit world may come in mysterious and unexpected ways.

So, as you go about your own journeys, remember to keep your heart and mind open to the signs and messages that the universe may send your way. You never know where they might lead you and what lessons they might hold.

Blessed be, God Bless, and Peace. Deuces!