I had a nightmare last night. This one was about Gracie. We had moved to a new place. The place looked sort of like an old church
but not the congregational pulpit area but more of like the communal area. We didn’t have much furniture. It was like we had just moved in. For a few nights in a row, Gracie seemed to
disappear to somewhere and return late in the night. This Gracie in my dream was still only 2 and
a half. When I asked her where she went
she said “with them.” I wanted to know
who “them” referred to. She didn’t have
an answer. All Gracie could tell me is
that whoever it was, they wanted her to follow them and so she did. But she would come back and not be able to
explain where she’d been. At one point,
when I was frantic with worry, because no matter how closely I watched her she
still would leave, I rushed outside with a flashlight just as she returned and
I screamed into the night, “Who are you? What do you want from her?” But there was no answer and I woke up with my
heart racing.
It was the kind of dream that sticks with you
throughout the day, the kind of dream that you remember in vivid detail. I have to wonder if others have dreams like I
dream, and what these dreams could mean if anything. What darkness must be in my subconscious for
me to dream such rattling dreams, that they shape my day into darkness.
Speaking of darkness, I don’t cry as much as I used
to, which I guess is a victory. However,
I feel a darkness inside, a deep sadness that stays with me no matter how I go
about my day, no matter what I do.
I went to a psychic.
She had some interesting things to say.
When she brought up my astrological chart, the first words from her
mouth were, “Whoa sweetie, you have a lot going on here.” She went on about the kind of person I am
first. Then she pointed out that I felt
a deep loss in June, that the loss was something that shook me to my soul and
rocked the people around me. She said
that the loss likely occurred before June but that it really hit home in June,
and then again in September. She said
that I will never forget this year but that I will never have another like it. It was a once in 84 years kind of years. She
claimed that though I was suffering still from this loss, it was also a year of
rebirth and that things would slowly get easier because we would start over.
She had me shuffle her tarot cards and each card she pulled was a death
card. She said that this loss must be
the kind of loss that is not ordinary; it was not someone old who passed, or
someone you would expect to lose. She knew
we moved and said that it was a good thing for us. She said other things, but, perhaps one of
the most important things is that she claimed that if D and I would try again
in late August of next year that we would most likely have a better
outcome. I am hopeful and
terrified.
I also went to my first post-Gabbie baby shower. There was more anxiety leading up to it than
at the actual event, although I could not stay to watch the opening of
presents. I did actually buy her a gift
of baby clothes that I picked out, and did not settle on a gift card.
However, I could not stand and read baby shower cards in the store so instead picked a blank one. The baby
shower was for my best friend; she was the only other person besides my mom and
the pastor who stayed with us to meet Gabbie and hold her. I would go to the ends of the earth for this
woman. Perhaps I should have gone
shopping for her on a previous day, but in all it was not bad. The anxiety came from not wanting to draw
attention to me at an event that was for her and I was so afraid I’d not be
able to hold it together. But I
did, mostly, except when I first saw her. Her family has been an extension of my family since we were kids. I am thankful she is my friend and lucky to have her. This is one more hurdle, another “first”
that I overcame. How many more firsts
are there? Sometimes the hurdles seem so
high I wonder if I can fly. I will be there in the hospital to meet the sweet baby boy when he finally, with all of God's grace, sees the other side. I am terrified for her. Absolutely and utterly terrified. I can only pray with all my heart that it turns out okay.
I wonder if
the stress of the day didn’t bring on the nightmare. I wonder if the nightmares are the way for my body to release some of the sad darkness in me. The are definitely not a joke. They cause me to wake with racing heart, sometimes whimpering, sometimes crying out, and often with tears rolling down my face. The nightmares, like the sorrow, stay with me for so long, like a very heavy package I cannot set down. I am tired from carrying them with me.
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