I heard a noise today in my kitchen and walked in to find that a friend’s magnetic framed wedding photo had fallen off my refrigerator and onto the floor. For most people, a fallen frame would simply mean it was time to go to Bed Bath & Beyond and buy a new one, but I am of Caribbean descent. Something like this is “a sign.”
I have a multitasking refrigerator. Its main purpose may be food storage, but the outside serves as a 3-D bulletin board. On the freezer door are magnets of all the states I’ve traveled to. So far I’m only missing Hawaii, Alaska, Washington, Idaho, Montana and Kentucky. The magnets are state shaped and generally proportional, except for Delaware. For whatever reason, the Delaware magnet looms larger than New Jersey, New York and Maryland, perhaps letting its First State status go to its head.
My refrigerator is also a repository of favorite photos: my oldest niece as a toddler; my husband as a bow tie clad fourth grader, my parents on the day of their 50th wedding anniversary. I’ve also got a gallery of friends’ wedding photos, surrounded by baby pictures of their kids, and their annual family photo Christmas cards. It’s cluttered but I love it.
When I saw my friend’s wedding picture on the floor, I was surprised how quickly and easily I turned into my mother and grandmother seeing this as “a sign”; truly wondering if my friend and her husband were okay. My mom’s family is from Jamaica; my dad’s family is from Barbados & Trinidad, but I’m second-generation American. With no known family left in the Islands, my occasional visits have been solely as a tourist.
I may not speak with an accent or know how to cook with curry, but clearly other less tangible values have seeped in. Along with an absurdly strong work ethic, Caribbean culture knows the value of intuition. When you get “a funny feeling ‘bout sumptin’” you need to trust it.
Logic said, “The magnet’s just losing its grip.”
Intuition said, “Something’s wrong. Call your friend.”
Logic said, “This was a random event. Any picture could have fallen off the fridge.”
But Intuition said, “Why ‘that’ picture? Why right now? There are no coincidences. Call her.”
I settled on sending an email. I felt incredibly foolish while typing it and like a complete loon for sending it. But I figured she of all people would understand since her family is Caribbean too. She did. I was surprised how quickly she emailed me back. Although slightly weirded out, her response was neither derisive nor mocking.
She was actually touched that I would be so concerned and thanked me for reaching out – no matter the motivation. “West Indian Culture runes deep and is powerful,” she said. She assured me that she and her hubby (also from the Carribean) were fine. They had, however, hit a bit of an economic rough patch. Understandable with a kid in college, a mortgage and car notes in the midst of a recession. No Caribbean- flavored psychic ability required there.
I was grateful that she understood, and relieved that she and her family were okay. Superstition satisfied, intuition itch scratched, I’m off to Bed Bath & Beyond for new frig frames. I have a funny feeling they might be on sale.
© 2009 Leighann Lord
A very funny lady on the stage and on the page, stand-up comedian Leighann Lord pens a weekly humor column with topics ranging from the personal to the political, from the silly to the sophisticated. Reminiscent of a modern day Erma Bombeck (famed nationally syndicated humor columnist), a fan dubbed Leighann, “The Urban Erma” and the name stuck. It’s a fun, fast read that leaves you laughing, or at least wondering why we don’t have a comprehensive mental health care plan. Visit Leighann at MySpace.
