Remembering Mema and the Promise Of Miracles

The ancient sages shared with us that on the death anniversary of a great soul leaving the world, we have the merit to connect to all the Light that soul revealed during his/her lifetime.

This day is very special to me.

I guess everyone thinks their Grandmother is special, but I will claim a little bit of pride and tell you mine was exceptional. Perhaps a righteous soul.

Her name was Ouida Carlton Tuttle, she was born February 13, 1927 in Cooks Hammock, FL. to a family with 9 brothers and sisters. She was the middle sister. Her Mother, Sarah, owned and operated a guest house in Sandford. She loved that house, as it would be the place that she learned to cook, sew, and take care of others. All the things that she would spend her life doing, with love and compassion.

In 1948 my Grandfather, Bob Tuttle, was down from Michigan with spring training for his Baseball team. He was a guest in the Carlton house and quickly fell madly in love with Ouida. Bob quickly moved to Orlando and married his southern belle. He took up practice at Southern Power Electric and Ouida spent her day's taking care of him and his needs. 1950, My Dad, Allen, Was born and God bless her, I think she was pregnant for the following 12 years. Following my Dad, came Jack, Garry, Jim and Finally Ouida's "Little Girl", Karen. She LOVED children always.

14 years after Karen, I made my debut into this world. Ouida was waiting. I can imagine not so patiently either, being her first grand baby. My Mom and Dad, committed to making the best life for all of us decided that My grandmother would take care of me while my parents worked. I am so thankful for that decision.

It was in these very early years that I really felt like such a part of her immediate family. Jim was still living at home at the time and Karen was in Junior High. Karen and I became so close, I dubbed her "My Sister", and with me being an only child, she was perfect. I could enjoy her, let her spoil me with love and attention, and then I could go home when I got sick of her, which was rarely. Actually, I often cried when I left that house.

As I began to speak, I named my grandmother, Mema.

Mema taught me many, many, things, but the basics she nailed down when I was very young. She taught me how to read (and love to read) with great excitement. I remember I couldn't wait to go to the shelf and pull out the "Dick and Jane" book to read to her, sitting on her lap. She

taught me my multiplication tables (not very well, I might add) and always taught me the importance of being a gentleman. To always say "Please" and "Thank You" and to always smile at people.

Food, as I mentioned above, was one of her greatest passions. She humbly cooked dinner for her entire family regularly. Sunday nights we would all spend together cramped in her "Ranch Room" enjoying the best cooking you can not even imagine. Her specialties were many but her Sweet Cinnamon Rolls were famous. Every Thursday night she ran the concessions stand at my Uncle Bill and Aunt Mary's Auction House. I would often go up there to help her and together

we would take care of the customers. They were the happiest when she made brownies and Cinnamon rolls. I remember the level of patience she had with each of them, as the line grew longer, I would keep telling her "We'll never feed them all" and she always responded "Sure we will. Every last one of them". She meant it too. She would never let anyone go hungry.

Being Southern in her roots, everything she made was laden with butter and fat, which always amazed me at what excellent health she was in, her entire life. As I got a little older and began to understand what food exactly was, I made the choice to not eat pork. This sent her head spinning, but never once did she ever prosecute my choices. In fact, she would always make things special for me. She would even leave the hock out of my green beans !!!

Her sewing and painting skills were a close runner up to her cooking skills. She was gifted with the needle and paint brush and would spend hours upon end in her sewing room making stuff for other people.

In the mid 1980's as I became a ravenous Madonna fan, she would buy magazines for me that had any and everything to do with Madonna. One time I had a concert - T-Shirt that was absolutely my favorite. It had stains on it and was quickly becoming too small for my growing tummy. She took me all over town looking for another one, and when one was not to be had, she had a solution "How about I paint the picture on some material and we will make a pillow out of it for you". Ripe with the good ole' attitude of a spoiled child I begrudeingly obliged. When the finished product emerged from her sewing room, I was in tears (much like I am now thinking about it) It was perfect. Just like the t-shirt. It didn't stop there, she made me about 4 more after that !

Baseball is a rite of passage in our family. It's as if the nurse waits patiently for the Tuttle baby boy to be born and personally hands them their own batt and ball! Unfortunately, I didn't get that gene. Much to the chagrin of just about everyone else in my family, Mema was certain that I had other gifts that would manifest down the line. As I elected a career on stage she was always elated to be at every opening I had and often came two and three times. Her favorite was when I played "Prince Chululongkorn" in a professional Dinner Theater production of 'The King and I" when I was 15. My "solo" blew her out of the water. It just was not "natural" for a Tuttle to sing! She believed in me so much. As a child I would save my pennies and bring them to her to put in a special savings account she made for me. When I was 14, I wanted to go to a modeling school and we could not afford it really, but she suggested "We can use all those

pennies you saved up all those years". Off to Modeling school I went. She was a miracle maker.

In the last few years of her life, her memory began to fail her. When I would talk to her on the phone, or visit her on holidays she didn't seem herself. Whenever I asked her how she was doing in the past, regardless of her pain or loss she always would say "I'm doing great!" But this time she said to me "I'm kinda sad, all of my friends are dying" I was shocked that she admitted something was bothering her. I know how precious her friend were to her. She was always there for everybody, no matter what your drama was, she would listen non-judmentally until she made sure you knew it was going to be alright. She had a regular Thursday group that was made up of people her age that had worked with my Grandpa at Southern Power. They met at the local Steak & Shake to laugh and holler about old times. On her 75th Birthday, those living came to celebrate her. Including the waitress that had taken care of them for the previous 10 plus years. I can imagine that watching these friends pass away made her begin to question her own mortality.

A year later, she was diagnosed with Alzheimer's Disease and my Uncle Garry moved back to Orlando to take care of her.

Fortunately enough, Alzheimer's victims rarely themselves feel much pain. Probably a little dignity & ego bruise is is the biggest of their ailments. However, the universe has done an impeccable job of reserving that pain for the people around them. There is nothing harder, than to watch someone you love so much forget the littlest things, like turning off the fountain and the biggest things, like a wedding or birthday.

I was always so terrified that the next time I saw her, she was going to forget me. God had mercy on me, and every time she lit up like a christmas tree, screamed my name and threw her arms around me and gave me a big hug. Always asking "Are you moving home yet?"

"No" I always replied. "Darn. At least I tried" she responded.

On what may have been the last visit I had with her while on Christmas vacation, I sat with her and we talked about "stuff". I wanted to tell her about all the work I was doing with Children. "That's so nice you're doing that, but what about your actin' " she said with her southern accent.

"One day I'll get back to it" I told her

"You better hurry, Mema's not gonna be around much longer" She told me. "Can't you get on one of them soaps? Then I can watch you every day!"

On April 10, 2007*** ( The 7th day of Passover,) around 1am, she left this world.

The seventh day of Pesach (Passover) is one of the most powerful days of the year. It was the day reserved in the cosmos for creating huge miracles in our lives, as witnessed some 5000 + years ago by the Israelites as they crossed the Red Sea and some 2000 + years ago as Christ was resserected from the dead. People ask always "What do these stories mean to me now? in Modern Times?" I will tell you. The "Red Sea" is a code, like most things in the Bible. It refers to the idea that each one of us has his or her own personal Red Sea in our life RIGHT NOW. It's something that appears too big to cross, to deal with, to change. It's a challenge we do not want to deal with or an opportunity we are too afraid to take advantage of. It's fear, it's sickness, it's money, It's WHATEVER you can't seem to get over.

Today you have the power to remove it.

With the power of your consciousness you can split your Red Sea. Meditate (or if it's too hard to mediate for you, just sit quietly and imagine) hard today, on the impossible. Illogical and unexpected as my teacher says. Feel it so deep in your bones that you know it for a fact. Know in every atom of your being that you can overcome it, with the help of the Light of the Creator.

We wander through life thinking that things "Happen", but they don't just "Happen", they are a result of something much, much, bigger that we can not even conceive. The energy came first. Today (and every year at this time) we can tap into that energy of Mind Over Matter and create huge miracles in our lives.

Mema visits me in my dreams regularly. She sits with me, we chat, she cooks for me, we laugh. She also tells me what is wrong in my life and what needs "Fixin'".

Her mortal life reminds me of the power of sharing and being good to others, while her immortal soul reminds me that I can do anything I set out to do.

"I promise you will be there when I am on TV" I told her after she asked me.

And she is, always. With me and with you. It is my greatest hope that today you will split your own personal Red Sea once and for all.

Please write to me and share your miracle stories. I know they will be abundant this year.

*** Please note that the dates above are based on a Lunar Calendar, not a gregorian one. So while April 10 is not today's date, today is the cosmic (lunar) date of her death.