Sylvia was an odd duck. I didn’t see it then but in retrospect and given new information, I realized she was a little nutty. My father was a handsome man who had no problem meeting the ladies. However, Sylvia happened to be the one love of which he could never let go.
THE BACK STORY
Before I was born my dad was cheating on my mother with Sylvia, therefore when they started dating again, after the divorce, my mother was furious. My mother believed the affair had never ended even throughout their 11-year marriage. To this day I do not know.
Sylvia had certain quirks like she only flushed the toilet if it is necessary. She was obsessed with our weight and would bring small trampolines to our house for Jason and I to jump on while we watched television. And as a hypochondriac, she wore a sling out in public so she would never have to shake anyone’s disease-ridden hands. But most importantly Sylvia was a follower of Ramtha.
Ramtha was a god who lived as a mortal through a woman named JZ Knight. My dad and Sylvia would watch in a meditativej pose videos of Ramtha giving lectures on how to live for RamthaOne. “Your lethargy wants you to go with the flow. Do you have your underground with all preparations that will let you go undetected?” Ramtha would ask and she would end every sentence with a long pause and then the word “Indeed.”
“Face your fears and allow yourself to unmask their illusion.” Long pause…”Indeed.”
Sylvia would pay $1200 for weekend retreats just to speak with Ramtha. One retreat Ramtha demanded that Sylvia move out of Southern California because a crack in the ocean would and that Sylvia should move up north and stockpile ten years of products that would help her survive when doom’s day arrived.
Jason and I were afraid to bring our friends home given the two of them at any moment would be meditating, watching, and or discussing Ramtha. It was not normal
In the end, she moved to Weed, California, and stockpiled ten years’ worth of canned goods, toilet paper, clothing, and whatever else she felt was needed under the house. She bought hundreds of llamas and peacocks because they would be her new friends. Often, she spoke about Mount Shasta and believed that it was a portal where different beings of consciousness travel to alternate universes. We would visit the mountain. I never saw a portal but we came and we left many times.
The last time I spoke to Sylvia was when my father died 16 years ago. She went into a diabetic coma and was bedridden for months. I am assuming she is no longer alive. Yet…one never knows what will happen next. And as the story goes. Indeed.