I have a running “joke” about how I never have “good” dreams when sleeping. All my life, my memories of dreams are all bad, so I would rather not dream at all. Which makes me sound like someone with a deep-seated psychological issue and also a dullard. But I digress. The thing that happens is that sometimes I have a dream that’s so good, so clear, so positive, that when I wake up and discover that it is not real in my current consciousness–I’m almost devastated. Which is why I would rather not dream.
On the night before Easter Sunday I dream I see you from afar at a store. You see me, and immediately duck as if to hide…..but then you straighten and we meet in the middle and before I know what is happening we have thrown our arms around each other, each of us sobbing hysterically. The arms you wrapped around me were so real, I can feel them now. The tears you dripped on my neck, stayed there all day today….I am saying to you…..I forgive you, I love you, we can make this work. You are apologizing, you have changed, our worlds have changed, you don’t let go. The past doesn’t matter. I am so at peace. I realize the last 10 months have been nothing but a nightmare, a bad dream where we both have lost our way. You don’t let go….
Like in a movie, I wake up so violently I scare myself a little. Drenched in sweat I realize it was a dream. Not the part I find myself sometimes wishing was a dream, but the part I, in that small moment, wanted so badly to be real, was actually the dream. I force myself to go back to sleep and dream that I am sick and my family is not around, I am alone and sick and in a place I don’t know. This is the type of dreaming I am used to. When I wake up in the morning I come to the conclusion that all my dreams are bad. Some are so bad, because they really were so good. As fleeting and as unreal as the dream was, the real feeling of you doesn’t leave me at all.
Today I was hoping to reflect on the newness of Spring, give thought to what the future holds, think about all things that rise above. Instead I found myself in the past, still trying to rise, to shed, to break anew. Maybe it was more fitting than I had originally thought. I am choosing to be kind to myself about this. About all things. I don’t want to leave the past behind forever because all of it is part of who I am, it just can’t hold my hand and sit next to me anymore. I think it will continue to ease with time. I hope. I look forward to the continual breaking and birthing anew. Painful, but joyous. Amen.
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