I’m sharing this story again that ties into my review of Dawn’s book from my prior post. I hope you enjoy again if you’ve already read it. And if you’re reading for the first time, I hope it brings a smile or makes you laugh. đ
Dad saved my life when I was a little girl! He was my hero, and the unforgettable episode took place when my parents, sisters, and I were at our cabin for a weekend getaway in Big Bear, California. Sugar pines surrounded our little bungalow on the big corner lot in the mountains. We had just finished Momâs delicious lasagna dinner, and everyone was relaxing in their own way for the rest of the evening. With crayons, I was bringing to life a picture in my coloring book, sitting on our coffee-colored sofa by our stone fireplace, and thatâs when Dad noticed the spider on the cushion heading for me at lightning speed. He caught it just before it began the climb onto my leg. In those days, any spider who found itself inside our home didnât live to see the sunrise the next morning. This moment was traumatic for me, so spiders have been the bane of my existence ever since. Even in my teen years, spiders seemed to follow my every move!
These wee beasts spent much of their time in my bathroom with the sky-blue walls and plush soft matching rugs. Never did they tour my parentâs bathroom. My mind drifts to the morning when I was about to take a shower, getting ready for another day of high schoolâŚas I turned the knob and looked up, I watched a spider ride the waves of the cascading waterfall down, down, down. I jerked my head back just in time, and I cringed thinking of that eight-legged creature tangled up in my long brown hair.
Mornings began to fuel anxiety as spider social calls manifested soon after the crack of dawn. The sun brightened the sky and another high school day was on the horizon. I grabbed a towel to dry off after showering when I felt something unnatural. Looking down, I watched in horror as a brown spider scuttled across my chest. I jumped, avoiding a nasty fall in the tub, and brushed the spider off not caring where it landed. I just wanted it off my skin!
I think these creepy-crawlies watched for me so they could plan their next prank. During another shower with my head full of shampoo suds, I spotted a black spider near my feet. The routine my feet performed was not one of a happy dance! With a swish here and there, my foot managed to nudge the scary intruder down the drain with ripples of water. I imagined it whirling into the dark depth of the water system. I quickly rinsed the suds out. Just as I felt calm run through my body, I looked down and noticed that spider climbing out of the drain! This could only happen to me!
Iâm not afraid of fangs digging into me. Fear rears its ugly head when they appear out of the blue, startling me out of my wits! Any hope of building armor is hopeless. And they have too many legs; this, combined with their sudden movements of jumping or crawling at high-speed, send me into a tizzy, as my dad used to say. Also, spiders are not pretty. Not to me. The visual doesnât compare to the beauty of a butterfly. In fact, their creepy appearance propels me into a panic as much as their sudden company!
Even after five decades, I havenât been able to shake my skittish reactions. Even though Iâm a giant compared to the spider, with any fear, the source becomes magnified. So, Iâve diagnosed myself with arachnophobia. And the tale continuesâŚ
One incident took place later in life. Iâm now a wife and mom with two young children. On an evening like any other while my family was getting ready for bed, I walked through the house locking up. I turned the lights out in the living room, but noticed a dark spot the size of my palm on the carpet. I almost â almost – reached down to touch it, but a bell went off in my subconscious warning me not to. I turned on the light and staring back at me was a black hairy tarantula!
âOh, Shit!â I screamed, backing up slowly.
âUh, oh! A spider found mom!â My husband, Matt, said to our daughter and son, who thankfully, didn’t share my fear. But he silently questioned the kind of spider that would cause me to shriek. This scenario sounded different.
After I managed to widen the space between the tarantula and me, my feet felt like cement blocks. Fear crept into my veins like a drug. I had never seen a tarantula up close, although I was thankful it stayed put. It didnât budge. It was not afraid of me. What a fiasco if the tarantula had run! If it had, I would’ve run too! Heebie-jeebies creep up my arms imagining the leggy intruder finding comfort beneath the sofas (that I would never sit on again!).
Matt was taken back when he joined me in the living room and was surprised that I hadnât passed out! My daughter had instituted the trend of saving spiders with a glass and a paper plate. So, by grabbing those two items, Matt scooped up the uninvited guest while I held the door. Per my request, he walked far enough away from the house before setting the big guy free in the yard. No tarantula was killed in the telling of this event. Our front door had been open earlier in the evening with the screen door closed. Spiders can maneuver through any cracks, but how that tarantula the size of my palm squeezed through baffles me to this day!
A few weeks after Matt had introduced âHarryâ to his outdoor residence, my phobia eventually quieted down. Until recently when I sat at the kitchen table typing on my laptop. I noticed a spider crawling over the top of the screen. You have got to be kidding me! It was the color of vanilla and appeared like out of a horror flick, magnified by the white backdrop, growing to an enormous size – my skewed perception! Each leg made its way over the top! Since Matt was home, I yelled for his help. He grabbed the spider-saving tools but was too slow for the speedy spider who was off to the races! So, Matt lobbed the glass to me like we had teamed up for an egg toss! âOh no, I missed him, too!â
âHon, itâs just a spider,âMatt said with a smile and a pinch of courage. He knew Harryâs ugly image had been engrained in my mind, and no matter how much effort I exerted, it was stuck there forever. So, I couldnât believe my ears, just a spider, but I knew he was teasing.
As it happened, this spider was faster than lightning!
âHeâs on the floorâŚhand me the glass!âMatt tried again. âAhh, now I canât see him; he blends into the tile.â
âItâs time for the vacuum then; Iâm so sorry,â I said out loud. When I finished pushing the vacuum back and forth, relief washed over me because I assumed the spider had been swallowed into oblivion. Then guilt followed because we tried to save the creepy creatures. My emotions were mixed! I sat down at the table again, but not before examining my laptop with eagle eyes to ensure no more spiders needed screen time!
Five minutes later, I saw the spider again!
âOh my gosh, Honey, heâs following me!â
âWhoâs following you?â
âWho do you think is following me?!â
I ignored Mattâs razzing, but a chuckle managed to escape anyway. I grabbed the glass but missed the spider again. Good thing we werenât on a baseball team! The spider certainly had an agenda â still racing to an unknown destination and much faster than us. My eyes stayed focused on the little fellow as it headed for the living room. He must be having the time of his life â the furniture would be a stellar playground!
âJust watch, Iâll find him on my chair in the morning,â I said.
âCould be. Should I make a bigger pot of coffee?â Matt replied, as he hid behind a grin.
After all the commotion, I had survived because we didnât see the eight-legged visitor again, and extra coffee wasnât needed in the morning.
However, I admit and without apology that I donât step into the shower before peeking behind the curtain first. Overcoming this fear most likely wonât happen. But if I can save a spider, and manage to hang onto the glass while it skitters around, then make my way to the door to give it freedom, thatâs progress. Amazing progress! Once outside, I gently lay the glass down and with leg synchronicity, the spider crawls out heading to the roses and lantana, making us both sigh with relief.
Neither of my thumbs have ever been green for the garden, and the last thing I wanted to do was deliberately put my hands in a spiderâs haven. Nowadays though, Iâm in tune with the blooms, so I donât worry about the creepy-crawlies when Iâm offering the blooms a drink. Fear doesnât have the firm grip that it had in years past.
But have I conquered arachnophobia one hundred percent? No, but I realize this phobia doesnât prey only on me. Knowing Iâm not alone while learning to exist with arachnids, that some are good for gardens, and acknowledging that theyâre not out to get me is a work-in-progress. Iâve come a long way since that evening at the cabin when Dad saved my life. Maybe his reaction incited fear. Yet, if the spider had begun its ascent onto my leg, fear wouldâve hurled into full force anyway!
And so I wonder, had the spiders been laughing at me when their presence whirled me into a frenzy? My intentions were always good. I simply didnât want to be roommates. Laughing with me wouldâve been perfectly welcomed.
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Š Lauren Scott, Baydreamerwrites.com â All rights reserved.
Cute spider photo found on the web.
Thank you for stopping by, and for taking the time to read this lengthy story.
Enjoy your weekend! â¤ď¸
My latest collection of poetry, touching on nature, love, and the mysteries of life
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Baydreamer Writes ~ Lauren Scott, Author & Poet 