Fairy Tales Can Be True

I remember reading in mythology as a child that those who were foolish enough to look upon the faces of the gods were either struck blind, mad or dead. I would have preferred blindness if anyone had asked me because that would have been some kind of memory, you know? Dead was just too permanent but madness had its own special allure. Just because you were mad didn’t mean you couldn’t have some fun.

I met a happy mad man not too long ago. I say ‘mad’ but in truth he could have been experiencing any kind of physical or mental disorder. Or maybe he had no disorder at all. Who am I to say that he wasn’t telling the truth? I believe in fairy tales, don’t you?

I met this gentleman while I was walking with a friend to the farmer’s market downtown. She was with her two dogs, a wolf and a golden retriever. Lovely animals! We strolled along chatting about this and that, and this perfectly normal appearing elderly gentleman came towards us. We both smiled and said good morning to him, and he stopped and said, ‘my sister lives up there.’ He was pointing straight up to the sky but I thought he might actually be pointing at some houses on the bluff above. I asked him if he meant the houses and he said no, up there, repeating his finger pointing at the sky. ‘She’s waiting for me, preparing a place for me,’ and I thought, oh, she’s already died and he’s happy knowing that she’ll be there waiting for him. He then explained that his sister was Mary Poppins.

That was great! My friend and I looked at each other with delighted faces and I said, “That’s wonderful! I wish I had a sister who was Mary Poppins. Heck, I wish I were Mary Poppins!”

His face lit up and he gave us a big smile and continued on his stroll. My friend and I didn’t discuss him because both of us were all too familiar with the good folks who weren’t always tracking in this reality. But I continued to think about him long after I finished shopping at the farmer’s market and returned home.

Had this delightful man merely come up with a fantasy that helped him cope with his sister’s death? Had he simply forgotten to take his medications that morning? Or had he dreamt that his sister had come to him in a form he could understand that let him know that he hadn’t been alone, would never be alone? I don’t know, but we all have ways of coping with the world when the reality is just too painful.

I remember when my mother had gone through a treatment of electric shock therapy for her depression and had come home after recovering. I got up with her at 3:00 a.m. and we drank coffee, smoked cigarettes and told tales. She shared with me that when she had been given an electric shock treatment that a friend of hers, a green dragon, would come to take her out of her body so she wouldn’t have to experience the pain that came with it. I asked her where her friend had taken her and she had replied, Mars. I had been delighted with the thought (and still am) because the treatment had looked so brutal and harsh and I had been glad to know that Mom believed she had been protected and with someone during it.

Was it true? Why not? Many people believed in angels and still do – why couldn’t hers have appeared as a green dragon? I had been raised Catholic and angels had been standard fare in this religion. Whatever the source it had helped her through a very difficult experience and I had been very glad she had her dragon angel to help her cope.

I had dealt with a difficult childhood by becoming a perfectionist and had demanded the same from everyone around me. Those who had failed to come up to my standards had heard about it too, believe me. Looking back I know now that I had been trying to exert some kind of control over my own reality to compensate for the horrible lack of control I had felt as a child. That everyone around me suffered also when I had been on a rant is one of my crosses to bear but I try to make up for it today by giving the understanding and patience to others that I never had as a child from my parents.

Mental illness frightens some people. It used to frighten me because there were times I wasn't too sure how I was faring in that area. But unless they are paranoid schizophrenics with violent tendencies, they no longer frighten me. I’m comfortable in my reality now, the fear and despair now replaced by compassion, happiness and love. Delusions don’t make me uncomfortable – indeed, they can be quite helpful if they don’t interfere with daily living. This gentleman had come up with a fantasy that helped him get through the day and I sure wasn’t going to take that away from him. Besides, who wouldn’t want Mary Poppins for a sister? I sure would!