I Lash Out, I Rage

Do you know about "Work Oppressive Dreams?" I continue to have them some twenty years after having retired from teaching. They are of the type where I show up at school having left the exams at home, or not being prepared for the day's lessons, or forgetting to have put on my pants.

This dream had to do with Gregory. I dream about him a lot. In the beginning, he was in his diminished state and he was just present in the dream. Slowly he regained his abilities, cognitive and physical, and his presence and interaction in the dreams were closer to "the old Gregory." 

In last night's dream, I pulled up in front of the condo and we were unloading the car. In the dream, Gregory had reverted to his previous lower functioning level. I got the cart from the lobby to unload the car and when I returned he was nowhere to be seen. I panicked. 

Turns out he had gone ahead up to the condo, without my seeing and without mentioning anything to me. When I got to the condo and discovered he was there I blew. My heart was beating a mile a minute (in the dream as well I am sure.)

I proceeded (I will admit this) to yell at him and to "beat him up." Slapping, hitting, shoving ... but not so hard that I would hurt him but rather hurt his ego. Perhaps I wanted him to know that what he did was not a good idea and perhaps my anger would help him know not to do that again. (Poor rationale!) 

It felt very much like watching a parent spank a child who ran into the street and was narrowly hit by a car. The kid almost dies so the parent hits him and punishes him?

I woke up heavy with the dream on my mind. I cried and felt so badly that three years and three months after Gregory's death, I still had so much anger and rage in me and that I acted in a mean, punishing, embarrassing, inappropriate, and uncalled for way.

Fairly quickly, I was able to dismiss the guilt. I understood that sometimes hidden emotions surface before they can be on their way. But I was heavy with the experience and often that is when my best poetryt "composes itself" for me. So at 4:30 AM, I got up and went to my computer to compose this poem:

Normalcy Violated

I work so hard to keep our life as normal as possible.

Then something happens to show me it is not normal.

To remind me that it is not normal. That Dementia rules.

And I react. I freak out. I act in ways for which I know better.

I love you so. And I mistreat you because I love you so.

And I lash out. I rage. I rage and lash out verbally. Physically. 

I hit you, slap you, punish you. Abusivey without thinking.

Because I want our life to be normal, And I am shown it is not.

I want you to be safe, I want our life to be normal.

I do not want you to be frightened or confused or frustrated.

So I lash out. I hit you. I slap you. I punish you.

And then I apologize. And I cry. And you cry. And I love you.

When normalcy disappears I freak out. I am surprised. I lash out.

And as much as I love you, it is not enough to just love you. 

It should be enough, but it is not enough and I lash out and I freak out 

And I apologize. And I am so sorry. And I cry. And you cry. And we love each other. 

That should be enough but sometimes it is not enough and I lash out.

When will I learn? Maybe next time. Maybe next time?

Whale Watching

This idea was taken from last night's dream. I awoke having "experienced" the situation comedy in my dream. This is the first time that I have been able to re-create a dream of this type in detail with a little added imagination after waking. 

Whale Watching

A Family Situation Comedy

The entire family lives in one, modest but large, four bedroom home in a small city just outside Chicago. The house is an older brick three stories. One bedroom is on the first level, the others on the second level and in the attic. Michael, the “Uncle” is visiting from New York City and camping out in the den. The parents live in a small “in-law’ apartment attached to the garage. The kitchen is large and there is a formal dining room.

The neighborhoods represent all racial and socio-economic level families with many mixed-race marriages. Strong LGBTQ presence. 

The small city consists of residential, business, and light factory and has a substantial downtown. There are brand name stores, privately owned shops, and restaurants which run from “chain” to very expensive. In the downtown area, there are hotels, a 16 screen theater, a legitimate theater, a library, a post office.

The public transportation is excellent and there is a commuter train. The police and fire protection are excellent. Crime is low but does exist. The school system is good and there are also a few private schools. It is home to a prestigious university and several smaller ones. Politics of most people in town is outspoken, Democratic.

• • •

Adolph Whales - Father - Has Early Stage Dementia/Alzheimer’s - 70

Adele Whales - Mother - 70 - Was an English Professor

Michael Whales - Brother - Gay -A retired teacher - 50

(Gregory Marie - Brother’s Husband - An architect. Now deceased, Alzheimer’s)

Pepper - Pet Collie

Bethany Whales/Branford - Sister - At Home Mother & successful writer - 45

Pete Branford - Sister’s Husband - Lawyer - 45

Go - Pet Poodle

Go Go II - Pet Poodle Puppy

Cindy Branford - Daughter - Divorced - 28

Barbara Delany - Daughter’s Wife - 28

Clarice Branford - Daughter - 12

Lindsey Branford - Daughter - 9

Pete Jr. Branford - Son - 20

Ginger - Older Pet Cat

Unusual, well-developed family dynamics. A very current and hip but at the same time old-fashioned, close-knit family that functions well. Each family member brings a unique perspective to the whole. All family members are outspoken with the exception of the two spouses who are somewhat overwhelmed by the family dynamics.

Dreams, Emotions, Lessons, Awarenesses

Last night was not an easy one. The dream began with a feeling of being smothered by someone who had come into the bedroom. It was like someone had lightly laid a pillow across my face and I was afraid to push back for fear of what was coming next.

Then I woke up.

I realized I was frightened and called for Gregory. I couldn't tell if I was calling outloud (which seems to happen a lot in dreams) so I called again, "Gregory, I am frightened. Come help me!" And he did.

Then I woke up for real.

Realizing that it was a dream in a dream I also realized, painfully, that Gregory could not come to help me and that besides his spiritual guidance and presence (which I have experienced,) he would never be able to physically come to help me again. Or embrace me. Or hug me. Or lie next to me.

The tears began to flow and I still felt frightened. I took deep breaths and worked at calming myself. I got up and walked around the condo a while, double checked to make sure the doors were if fact locked, and went back to bed.

In the dark, the dream was still with me. I tried to think about the emotion of fear and think about what message the dream was trying to bring me. The word lonliness came to the surface and the word alone.

Recently I had written about feeling "older" and about the exponential changes one goes through healthwise when the decades are larger. I.E. the body goes through expenentially more changes when your age goes from 70 to 80 than it did when it went from 50 to 60.

Also, I had read an article about an Austrailian scientist who just turned 104 and decided to go to Switzerland for an assisted suicide as we was ready to die based on his quality of life.

Finally, I saw on Facebook that the father of a student at Northeastern University, in a freak accident, was hit by a falling projection screen and might end up being parazlized.

I decided that the "fear" that visited me during my dream was of growing older, of being alone while ill, and of the continued realization that life is so fagile that it can fall apart on less than a moment's notice.

I know all this so why dream about it now? And lessons are not going to change the details. Maybe the other side of the dream is to remind me to live each moment as well as you can (I do,) be grateful for what you have (I do,) don't worry about those things you cannot change (I do.)

A snappy ending to this essay then is "I now pronounce you man and emotion. You may kiss the fear." Or a philosophical ending: "Life is easier to accept by the light of day than it is by the shadow of night."

Permanence vs Impermanence

I have been thinking about this one as a part, I guess, of my continuing process of grieving Gregory's death on October 4, 2015. We are coming up on two years. Cannot believe that it feels like a lifetime ago and like yesterday at the same time.

One of Buddhism's tenets is that nothing is permanent. Everything, yes everything, is in transition. You are different people than you were when you went to sleep last night. You will be different people when you go to bed tonight than you were when you woke up this morning.

These differences, at the basic level, are due to sloughing off cells and growing new ones. These differences are based on your experiences as individuals and with others. These differences are because of what you did today, what you saw today, what you heard today, what you said today. These differences are what make life and love interesting and vital and in turn make your relationship interesting and vital.

There will be failures and there will be successes. There will be illnesses and there will be wellnesses. There will be problems and there will be solutions. There will be arguments and there will be making ups. There will be tears and there will be laughter. There will be sorrow and there will be joy.

My wish for you … dear reader ... is that you try to make sure that you change with the changes you will encounter because encounter them you will. My wish for you … see the lessons these changes teach you and the growth you encounter because of these changes. My wish for you … make sure that your love for self and others continues to grow and change,

… and my wish for you … love every day like tomorrow may never arrive!

• • •

Another tenet of Buddhism is that because we try so hard to create permanence, which we can never really do, we suffer. We suffer the changes because as a human being we want to be happy and never sad, we hope to be successful and financially stable and never fail or be poor. We suffer because we blindly hold on to those things which we know we cannot hold. We suffer the day we begin to intellectualize things as a child and realize that we love life but that we will die. Everyone we love will die.

So having been thinking about this, I came to a conclusion? understanding? new way of living and dealing with the fact that Gregory is dead? Easily stated: Go with the changes. They are what they are and the only defense you have is how you think about them and how you react to them.

If you have "good," know that you may loose it but you get "good" back again in ways you might never have imagined. If you have "bad" it will pass also. Be careful not to allow yourself to hold on to "bad" in the name of seeking permanence of any kind. You would be amazed at how many people hold onto "bad" because it is a known entity and they still are trying for permanence (which never can  be achieved.)

My first thought is that Gregory's death is the one thing that is permanent, not always changing. Not being of this physical world any longer, change is not taking place. Some things are permanent for me, like never seeing him again, never kissing him again, never being able to hold his hand. No sharing of thoughts, no discussions, no arguments, no disagreements, no talking about recent adventures.

Yet I realized that in my memories and dreams I am still able to do all of these things and often in my dreams, they are so real I can feel him! I realized that even in death there is constant impermanence. Partly because I now hold Gregory in my heart, my memory, my thoughts ... as I change so does he. 

As my memory of events we shared together are revisited they will change. As I grow to be a new person each day, my relationship to Gregory as I see it will reflect the new person that I become, so there is impermanence there as well.

Also, who is to say that in his new place Gregory is not still changing, learning, progressing towards higher levels of love, compassion, and being?

On a day when I was particularly down (should I say depressed?) dealing with some of the more difficult times during Gregory's (our) journey with Alzheimer's, I had another realization. None of the difficult memories that I have are true anymore because they no longer exist for Gregory (or for me) so why do I allow them to continue to bother me, to add a measure of guilt for not having been better, at bringing me down today?

Holding on to these difficult times memories serve no purpose, do not serve Gregory, and certainly do not serve me. So why hold on to them. Release them and work at only remembering the good, the joy, the what I call "Momentary Monumental Miracles." Remembering the good times during his 12-year journey helps. Towards the end of his illness; instances like Gregory spontaneously telling me he loved me, or thanking me and saying that I am a good person, or our laughing together, or his giving me the last kiss having been in a coma for three days; are the ones I'll hold on to. 

I can tell I am getting better at my grieving if only because I am only rarely OVERWHELMED with sorrow. Most often, I will look at his photograph and say out loud, "Gregory, I love you. What an ordeal we went through! But we made it, you and I, didn't we?"

And he replies, "Yes, we did. And we did it well!" 

Some Random Thoughts Today

Emma plays with a red and blue puff ball approximately 1½" in diameter. She thinks it is her mouse, her prey.

Like most cats, she likes to show off her prey so she screams loudly as she carries the ball around the living room. She screams so loud that when I am on the phone, people often ask what is happening and probably think I am torturing her! I am not.

Unlike most cats, she loves to play fetch with the puff ball. We can spend long period of times with me throwing it across the room and her chasing it madly, picking it up in her mouth screaming, and then bringing it back to me, dropping it at my feet.

Gigi, on the other hand, and in keeping with her personality, will pick up the blue and red puff ball, bring it into the room, drop it by my feet, look up at me, and finally ... quietly ... walk away. Mission accomplished Gigi style!

When I wake up during the middle of the night too pee and an unusual time is showing on my digital clock, I like to think that it is a "hello" or "nod" from Gregory. Last night I awoke to 2:22 and also at the bottom of the clock noticed the date: February 2. 2:22 on 2/2!  Hi Greg!

Last night I had two dreams in which Gregory figured prominently. When he shows up in my dreams,  usually we do not interact but his presence is there and it is good to be with him.

One: I was at a party at long time friends and owners of Prairie Joe's restaurant in Evanston on Central Street, Aydin Dinner and Diane Ubl-Dincer. Aydin's mother was making flowers out of colored paper which were beautifully professional looking. Gregory was at dinner with me.

Two: I went into our bedroom at home (where I was actually sleeping) and Gregory was sitting there reading a book. I got what I came in the room for and left.

With all the "STURM und DRANG" of Trump as POTUS, I don't know what to think anymore! 

Sturm und Drang comes from German, where it literally means "storm and stress." Although it’s now a generic synonym of "turmoil," the term was originally used in English to identify a late 18th-century German literary movement whose works were filled with rousing action and high emotionalism, and often dealt with an individual rebelling against the injustices of society. The movement took its name from the 1776 play Sturm und Drang, a work by one of its proponents, dramatist and novelist Friedrich von Klinger. Although the literary movement was well known in Germany in the late 1700s, the term "Sturm und Drang" didn’t appear in English prose until the mid-1800s. 

On a daily basis, I realized that I have actively been reading about, studying, and trying to understand and come to some conclusions about what is happening at the White House and how it will affect my country and how it will affect me! I also realized that I DO NOT WANT TO BE SPENDING THIS MUCH ENERGY TRYING TO MAKE SENSE OUT OF NONSENSE! I do not want to be trying to outguess, to figure out, to decide how to respond actions  to the POTSUG (President of The Strum und Drang.)

I do not feel that I can ignore the POTSUG but I also realize that my emotional/mental well being is at stake! As I feel many people are doing, I need to think about how to deal with this.

A Performance Performance

Another amazing dream last night. This time it lasted for three hours and I know because I kept waking up and noticed the passage of time. It ran from approximately 3:00 to 6:00am. Each time I fell asleep, the dream picked up where it had left off.

The dream took place in a night club of sorts, a bar, or perhaps a large open space party room. Most of the guests were sitting around on high stools at high tables, sitting around sofa settees, or standing about.

The lead performer was a Lady Gaga type chanteuse and her back up chorus of men and women. The lighting was magnificent, the music loud and engaging.  If I could remember the music and the lyrics, I could produce an award winning Broadway musical! I do not recall if there was a story line and if there was, what it might have been.

The most significant part of the dream was its YING/YANG approach to performance. One could not tell who was in the audience and who was a performer. You could not tell when the show was over or if it would begin again. At the same time, I was not able to tell if the performance was in full swing or if it was intermission.

Some of the performers performed inside the room and others performed outside but were broadcast on huge TV screens. They walked in, marched in, came singly and in groups, came out of side wall doors, arrived on moving platforms,  were lowered from the ceiling, and were raised from the basement below.

Putting it mildly it was a spectacular spectacle!

A Dream of Moving On

Together, Gregory and I had been working the land, somewhere in what felt like Japan.

We anticipated buying the property and the owner and Gregory were measuring the square footage using a primitive method which included dragging a rock on a string around the perimeter of the property from corner to corner after having marked the corners with a primitive rocking device.

As we walked the perimeter, I periodically was able to see that now and then there were underground caves or dwellings. I could not really make out what their purpose was or exactly what they looked like from the inside.

The cost to purchase the land was already in the owner's mind based on his love for us but the measuring was a ceremony that needed to be completed. Ten thousand dollars is what he told us. We could easily afford the price.

For some reason Gregory went silent and retreated to an underground cave on the property. He decided that we could not go forward with the purchase but would not explain his reasoning.

Next we are in a truck traveling away to someplace. I do not know where we were going but that we were leaving the property purchase opportunity.

Somehow, Gregory is on the outside of the truck controlling it as we drive down a steep road. I suggest that I could help from the inside and do so taking over the steering.

The steep road has caused  the speed of the truck to pick up dangerously. I steer as the truck careens down the road narrowly missing other vehicles.

Finally I am able to break and get the truck back under control. Gregory is furious with me. I realize that I could have put the truck in low gear to help it better descend but had forgotten to do so and therefore the near miss.

I wake up with tears in my eyes. Working with Gregory so closely (even though he was angry with me) had felt so beautiful that waking up back in my real world saddened me.

My body ached from the work I had just done while sleeping and I lie with tears in my eyes.

My pain and tears continue as I lie awake. I come to this realization. I am "suffering" because of desire something I cannot have (to be with Gregory again) and about which I can do nothing. So I sit with my suffering recognizing that  the reality is that I miss him, am sad, and am suffering.

And it is OK to sit with the emotions. (Thank you Buddhism for allowing me to able to do this.)

Then I get the feeling that Gregory needs to move on with his own work in death, as I do in life, and I am keeping him back. I do not want to let go but realize I must.

We can no longer work together but must go our separate ways. I call out, "I cannot let you go."

And he answers (if only in my mind,) "But I will always be nearby if you need me!"

MIRACLE: The Date, The Time and A Dream

AS OF FEBRUARY 3, 2016, here is today's MIRACLE plus a listing of all the miracles I have experienced, sent by Gregory since he passed on October 4, 2015. All open in a new window so you won't get lost. I will update this post as new miracles take place.

• • •

TODAY FEBRUARY 3, 2015

I woke at 4:56 am. Was pleased to have heard from Gregory after not having heard from him in a while. Then I realized that the clock also shows the date so the entire visual was: 2/3 4:56! You have read previously that I like to interpret these unique time sequences as a "wink," a "nod," a "hello" from Gregory nudging me awake to see his presence.

Next, I had what I call a "Work Oppressive Dream." I still dream about classroom events gone wrong and I haven't been a teacher for over 20 years! This one was about Gregory.

He was making copies of files using my new hp Color LaserJet Pro Printer. He had many files and was making three copies of each sheet in each file and the number of copies (and their cost) was piling up. One copy for the client, one was a work file, and one was to be kept at home.

First, I might mention that I recently purchased this printer because I wanted to not so much because I needed it. It was more expensive than a regular ink jet and the ink cartridges are more expensive, but the quality is superb and since I do not print all that much, I felt I could afford the upgrade.

In the dream I was angry with Gregory because he didn't need to make copies, he no longer needed to make copies, and through his Dementia I couldn't make him understand although I strongly tried. 

As we had in the past, until I learned to understand how to approach situations like this (especially learning that sometimes you just cannot explain things and rather have to distract the person) I kept up trying to explain and as I did I got more and more angry.

He just ignored me and continued making copies. Finally I woke up. In analyzing the dream as I lie there half awake, I came up with three possibilities.

1) I feel a little guilty at having a more expensive printing setup.

2) Gregory was doing his best to say Hi! which he did in the style of his "Maire You Are A Shit" type of humor I so loved. This part of the realization caused me to giggle as I drifted back to sleep. And/or 

3) I was meant to realize I no longer have to worry about "monitoring" his behavior and/or explaining, and/or getting angry at the sometimes silly things he did.

The interesting thing about this dream is that he was not just "present in the background" like so many dreams have been but rather he was an active part of a two person dream including only him and me.

• • •

1) The Kiss 
http://mhorvichcares.blogspot.com/2015/10/gregory-iii.html

2) The Candle
http://mhorvichcares.blogspot.com/2015/10/gregorys-last-days.html

3) The Dream
http://mhorvichcares.blogspot.com/2015/10/a-dream.html

4) The Meeting
http://mhorvichcares.blogspot.com/2015/12/the-meeting.html

5) The Bear
http://mhorvichcares.blogspot.com/2015/12/the-bear.html

6) The Christmas Moon
http://mhorvichcares.blogspot.com/2015/12/a-christmas-full-moon.html

7) The Threes (333)
http://mhorvich.blogspot.com/2016/01/miracles-threes.html

8) 1, 2, 3, 4!
http://mhorvich.blogspot.com/2016/01/yesterday-was-gregory-and-my-41st.html

9) 1, 2, 3, 4! ... and a Daily Word
http://mhorvich.blogspot.com/2016/01/miracle-9.html

10) Start It Said  and 11) 333 Again

http://mhorvich.blogspot.com/2016/01/miracles-10-and-11.html

12) Gigi Cares

http://mhorvich.blogspot.com/2016/01/last-night-at-bedtime-i-got-sad.html

13) A Gentle Blue Embrace

http://mhorvich.blogspot.com/2016/01/a-gentle-blue-embrace.html

14) Time Flies

http://mhorvich.blogspot.com/2016/01/a-miniature-museum-maire-memorial.html

An Old World Dream

This morning, during the last dream of my sleep, I created an old world European town with all its sights, sounds, colors, and smells. It has some of the components of, but was unlike any of the places I have ever visited.

The buildings were of brick and were quite old. They were at most three stories high with people living above the shops. Laundry was drying on the lines of some of the buildings and several old ladies were beating the dust out of their carpets. Between the brick buildings here and there were wooden, shack like structures, usually leaning off center just a bit.

The buildings on the street were very densely placed. Some had wooden shutters which were thrown open. In the street which was narrow and filled with people shopping or walking to work. The only cars in sight were one or two small models that were parked haphazardly onto the sidewalk. The cars were of a different era.

I was somehow involved with two shops, one next door to the other and connecting. I do not remember what type of shops or if I was an owner or worker, but I am of the impression that they provided a service of some type, perhaps one was a laundry and one a dry good store.

A woman was in the back room of one of the stores and the front door was propped open. I am not sure if she was my wife, my mother, my sister, or a fellow employee. I do remember as I left the shop, worrying that someone would come in and she wouldn’t hear the bell over the door ring, so I closed the door behind me as I left.

Although it was very early in the morning, as I walked down the street people were sitting in the little sidewalk cafe’s having their morning coffee and the outdoor vendors were already set up and selling. I passed one vendor who was selling pastries and cakes.

Another was selling various cuts of meat on a grill including a roast of beef, a roasted turkey, several whole chickens, piles of sausage links. Behind the grill were a number of whole or partially sliced salami’s and boloneys and wrapped pieces of liver sausage. The smells were delicious!

I went into a small shop and purchased a sesame seed baguette which I slipped into my shoulder bag. I remember thinking that I wanted to go back to the meat stand to buy some food to take home, especially savoring in my mind the potential taste of the liver sausage. 

I awoke very hungry.

Miracle #9

Gregory seems to be hanging around a lot lately! Last night after a long read, I turned over to click off the light and noticed the clock read, "12:34." Another "nod, wink, hi" from Gregory. Another miracle as I call them!

This morning, the following Daily Word showed up on my computer. Very confirming of how up, happy, content I have been feeling while being able to miss Gregory at the same time!

Live Your Dreams Today I celebrate that my dreams are unfolding. Tuesday, January 12, 2016 Deep within my heart, my intentions and my faith intertwine to reveal glorious possibilities. Despite any outer appearances of seeming lack or limitation, I remain firm in my faith to live my dreams. My intentions are powerful, and they contribute to a new vision for my life. The thoughts I hold in mind shape the experiences of my day. In my quiet times, I draw upon divine ideas as the building blocks of my life. As I tap in to divine ideas, my life manifests new and positive outcomes. Moment by moment, my dreams are becoming reality. I focus on the highest vision for my life. As I notice my goals and dreams coming into fruition in my outer life, I recognize that a spiritual awakening is also unfolding within me. I celebrate my dreams coming true!

Last Night in Bed

No this is not a sexual activity report but rather a recounting of two amazing dreams I had last night.

The first dream took a lot of energy. It was what are known as "Work Oppressive Dreams" but the problem is that this no longer is my "work" and hasn't been for over 20 years.

I was once again Coordinator of Gifted Education for the Glenview Public Schools and I was having to defend my program, my behavior, and my stand on Gifted Education to all the nay-sayers I came across in my close to 20 years in the role of teacher, consultant to teachers and parents, and administrator of the TAG Program.

For the most part my relationships with students and parents were wonderful, it is the administrators at all levels and district politics that caused me the most grief (with the exception of only a few fellow administrators.) So we are talking about close to 40 years (20 in the role, 20 retired from the role) and I am still having nightmares about my experience.

I finally woke up and while going to the bathroom repeatedly said aloud, "Why are you having this dream? You do not need to have this dream! Stop having this dream." It worked and when I fell asleep, I had a more frightening dream.

Details of exactly where I was and what was happening were not clear. But I would compare it to a usual day, surrounded by family and friends, when suddenly something like a nuclear attack took place. The earth shook, explosions were loud, and a huge cloud of "whatever" slowly came towards us and engulfed us.

I knew I was going to die and slowly lost conscientiousness. Next part of the dream we are not dead but alive in this devastated environment, no sun, dark sky but during the day. Thick air not pleasant to breath without difficulty. No electricity, nothing taking place around us, not much food.

I awoke from this dream with a fright and lie there for a while, half asleep and half awake, thinking what would I do today if I was involved in some type of major calamity and had to escape the condo?

Would I fill my pockets with the twenty dollar bills I have stashed away in case the ATM's go down in a global space war, would I take a flashlight and batteries, would I take water and/or food and how would I carry everything?

Would my cell phone work? I would need to make sure I took my IDs and medications. I guess the cats would be on their own. What about clothing, to keep cool or to keep warm depending on the season.

Should I put together a "survival" kit or box so I could just grab it on the way out the door?

Finally I drifted off into an unbothered sleep until my alarm woke. I was exhausted but happy to be alive and looking forward to beginning my boring, usual, mundane day.

Auntie Esther's Dream

This morning, in the last dream of my night, I was visiting with Auntie Esther, now deceased,  in her bedroom. She was very old, very ill, very magical, and maybe a little crazed.

Snuggled up in her bed, in a nest of blankets and pillows, she was surrounded by shelves and cabinets of little objects. Little treasures. Tiny things. Some religious, some playful, some fanciful. They formed the walls of her aged existence.

She got out of bed, came across the room to hug me then said, “Put me back to bed, can’t you tell I’m dying?” I picked her up in my arms and carried her back, laid her down, and tucked her in.

She gave me a rough tree-branch pointed stick and told me it was magic and would help. That I should try to carry it with me in my sock. (Dreams don’t always make sense do they?)

We talked some more and without my saying so, she knew that I wanted to have all of her small objects just as they were arranged, just as they existed for her. She smiled and said I could have them. I asked if I shouldn’t first check with her daughter.

Her response was, “When something comes up in life, be true to it for just one minute, then get on with expressing the rest of your life.”

I woke up with tears in my eyes.

Auntie Esther (RIP September 17, 2004)