I had one of those dreams last night. You know the type. You are trying and trying to get somewhere or get to something and no matter what you cannot get there. Last night it was a bus at the top of a very steep hill. I was slogging up the hill so so slowly and would get pulled off the street to do various tasks. I would hurry through those only to found myself back on the hill trying to get to the top in super slow motion.
I suppose that means I am searching for unattainable goals or something. Shrug. Who knows. Who really cares. I can tell you for sure that when I have these dreams I wake up more tired than I was before I went to bed.
But last night was different. On one of my many attempts to get up the hill a woman (whom I have known since the 5th grade) appeared and asked why I had to get to that bus. I could not answer her. She suggested I take a different road because Maggie was waiting for me. I ran down the other road that was flat and easy to travel and started running fast, so excited to find Maggie.
Then I woke up.
And she was still gone.
And I was so sad all over again.
But I can't quite shake it. I was working so hard to get something I didn't really want or need when, at least in my dream, something I really wanted was - or seemed to be - so much easier to get. And what is the significance of my childhood friend's sudden appearance. Someone is trying to tell me something? Something or someone from my past will lead me where I want to go? But reality may prevent me from getting it?
Maggie is actually not in my dreams very often. Perhaps because she is constantly on my mind, my sub conscious gives me a break. When she is there, she is smiling and happy and I take comfort in that.
I loved the feeling I had in the dream when I was running toward where she was. And hated the feeling when I awoke.
Showing posts with label dreams. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dreams. Show all posts
Wednesday, February 3, 2016
Tuesday, November 25, 2014
Area of Refuge
I had a dream the other night that Maggie and I had evacuated to an "area of refuge" and were awaiting assistance, but no one was coming. The dream was a little scary as we were all alone and I wondered if anyone would be there for us.
There are lots of possible read ins to this, but I know for a fact that it stemmed from the scavenger hunt at the new UCSF Benioff Children's Hospital which is all but complete and will open February 1. The scavenger hunt was part of an all day training for staff and contractors (like me) who work at the hospital. People need to know where things are and we were charged with finding several places, including the area of refuge. It is a place where people who cannot get down the stairs wait for help. You and I would call it the stairwell, but building codes require these places be labeled as a specific "area of refuge" .
The dream stayed with me all day yesterday and I felt a little unsettled, and very alone and helpless. I worked at the current hospital and felt Maggie's presence all day long. That doesn't usually happen to me, but it was strong yesterday. It wasn't just my imagination either.
As I was headed home a car pulled up along side me. The woman inside was smiling, but I didn't recognize her. She asked, "Aren't you Maggie's mom?' She was a therapist who worked with Maggie for a short time when she started high school. The therapist moved away, and I lost track of her. It was kind of her to bother pulling over to offer condolences.
When I arrived back in my neighborhood, I went to the little market from which I always buy my Thanksgiving turkey. I just wanted to confirm my name was on the list. While in there I saw a neighborhood woman whose name I don't know. She is sort of the queen of the dog people in the 'hood. She's very nice and had offered assistance with Maggie in the past. I figured I should tell her about Maggie. She was shocked and kind as always. I told her I had seen her in the past months but didn't say anything because I couldn't talk about it. She completely understood. But when she compared my experience to the loss of her first dog, I quickly ended the conversation. Not rudely, mind you, but ended it nonetheless. I do realize some dog people equate their pets with children and though no harm is intended, it is a rather insulting comparison.. I have both. In fact I've lost both this year. It's not the same,
Finally home, I gathered the mail and went upstairs. I listened to two messages as I plopped my things down. One message was from a mom of another disabled young man. She offered her condolences about Maggie and gave the other reason for her call. Then I opened the mail to read a card from a law school friend who had just learned about Maggie and offered her sincerest sympathy. It was very kind.I stared at the message machine and the card in my hand, not quite believing all of this was happening on a day when I had felt Maggie with me so strongly.
Amazingly, all four of these encounters happened in the span of about 45 minutes; and they all happened nine months and nine days after we lost Maggie. Even after all this time, there are people bothering to offer their condolences and tell me how cool Maggie was. Taken collectively they made me realize that the dream didn't need to bother me, I'm not alone at all. There are plenty of people ready to assist. My area of refuge is anywhere I go and in the people who knew Maggie.
Monday, December 15, 2008
Dream Weaver
Dreams are funny things. We sleep but our brains stay active. Various things from the day pop up in the strangest contexts. Things we anticipate dread or just have to do also have a way of weaving into the stories of our subconscious. Many people cannot remember their dreams, which is unfortunate. Dreams are very entertaining and very instructive.
My husband, mother, siblings and college roommates can all attest to my wild dreams. I used to scream in the middle of the night, generally because something was falling on me. Never figured that out, but it happened all the time. One night I actually grabbed my sleeping husband and flung him to the other side of the bed because I thought a telephone pole was falling on us. I woke up, realized it was just a dream and went right back to sleep. He stayed wide-awake for the rest of the night, and slept with one eye opened for several nights after that. Those freak-outs stopped about 20 years ago. They never bothered me, but anyone who ever shared a room with me will recall those nights with wide eyes.
These days my dreams are like my life. I am running as fast as I can and not getting anywhere. Last night was a good example. I dreamed it was morning and I was trying to get Maggie ready for school and out the door. (I have written about my morning ritual before. Suffice it to say it is a ridiculous flurry of activity over a 90-minute period.) In real life, we go out the back door and down the elevator/lift outside, into the back yard and snake our way through a junk filled basement/garage to the front of the house. This is a distance of about 15 feet vertically and less than 50 feet horizontally, but it is slow going. Once in the chair, it is at least three minute before we get outside to the front of the house. In my dream, the bus was outside waiting for us and to save time I was going to go out the front door. Never mind the 12 steep stairs, I had to get outside or Maggie would miss the bus. The stair issue was never resolved or even addressed in the dream because I could not get the door opened.
In the dream, the front door would open only a couple of inches because Maggie’s supplies were in the hallway blocking the door. Maggie’s supplies come monthly from various medical supply companies and they take up a lot of room in a crowded house. The nine cases of liquid food next to the three huge boxes of diapers, catheters, under pads and the respiratory supplies would completely fill my hallway if I let them. We try to get them put away as quickly as possible, some in her room and the vast majority in the (junk-filled) basement. Try as I would I could not get the door opened to get Maggie to school. Steve and the boys were frantically trying to get them out of the way, but the bus driver drove away while I watched, helpless, from behind the boxes.
I woke up with a start and jumped out of bed to get the morning ritual underway. It went smoothly. The rain stopped long enough to get her down the elevator and we were outside 10 minutes before the bus arrived. Maggie laughed at the dog chasing the toy I was tossing. All quiet on the Western Front.
No in-depth dream analysis necessary here. I get it. I am trapped in the house because of Maggie. And the walls are starting to close in. That bugs me, of course, but I accepted it a long time ago. The troubling thing about this dream was Maggie being stuck too. I think it was a combination of the rain and the knowledge that school will be out after Friday. It is difficult to get her out of the house in the cold rainy weather and she gets extremely bored if she does not go out. I have to figure out ways to keep her entertained over the break. Good thing the boys are coming home. That will help.
My husband, mother, siblings and college roommates can all attest to my wild dreams. I used to scream in the middle of the night, generally because something was falling on me. Never figured that out, but it happened all the time. One night I actually grabbed my sleeping husband and flung him to the other side of the bed because I thought a telephone pole was falling on us. I woke up, realized it was just a dream and went right back to sleep. He stayed wide-awake for the rest of the night, and slept with one eye opened for several nights after that. Those freak-outs stopped about 20 years ago. They never bothered me, but anyone who ever shared a room with me will recall those nights with wide eyes.
These days my dreams are like my life. I am running as fast as I can and not getting anywhere. Last night was a good example. I dreamed it was morning and I was trying to get Maggie ready for school and out the door. (I have written about my morning ritual before. Suffice it to say it is a ridiculous flurry of activity over a 90-minute period.) In real life, we go out the back door and down the elevator/lift outside, into the back yard and snake our way through a junk filled basement/garage to the front of the house. This is a distance of about 15 feet vertically and less than 50 feet horizontally, but it is slow going. Once in the chair, it is at least three minute before we get outside to the front of the house. In my dream, the bus was outside waiting for us and to save time I was going to go out the front door. Never mind the 12 steep stairs, I had to get outside or Maggie would miss the bus. The stair issue was never resolved or even addressed in the dream because I could not get the door opened.
In the dream, the front door would open only a couple of inches because Maggie’s supplies were in the hallway blocking the door. Maggie’s supplies come monthly from various medical supply companies and they take up a lot of room in a crowded house. The nine cases of liquid food next to the three huge boxes of diapers, catheters, under pads and the respiratory supplies would completely fill my hallway if I let them. We try to get them put away as quickly as possible, some in her room and the vast majority in the (junk-filled) basement. Try as I would I could not get the door opened to get Maggie to school. Steve and the boys were frantically trying to get them out of the way, but the bus driver drove away while I watched, helpless, from behind the boxes.
I woke up with a start and jumped out of bed to get the morning ritual underway. It went smoothly. The rain stopped long enough to get her down the elevator and we were outside 10 minutes before the bus arrived. Maggie laughed at the dog chasing the toy I was tossing. All quiet on the Western Front.
No in-depth dream analysis necessary here. I get it. I am trapped in the house because of Maggie. And the walls are starting to close in. That bugs me, of course, but I accepted it a long time ago. The troubling thing about this dream was Maggie being stuck too. I think it was a combination of the rain and the knowledge that school will be out after Friday. It is difficult to get her out of the house in the cold rainy weather and she gets extremely bored if she does not go out. I have to figure out ways to keep her entertained over the break. Good thing the boys are coming home. That will help.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)