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Saturday, April 11, 2015

Just out of the pity pool and dripping wet

We were in a motor home, leaving an archery range with our bows packed away and quivers hanging from seat backs, the arrows bright splashes of colour against the dim interior. It was darkening rapidly outside as we headed to the side of the road where the view spread out before us. Later I would think it reminded me of Skyline in Oakland where you can look out over the San Francisco Bay and be mesmerized by the view. But back in the dream I was turning away from the view, away from H, and turning my back on all of the ways I had not been myself, all of the pretense that I had evoked in order to be with him, all of the choices I had freely made that had been about him and never about me I was so desperate to love and be loved. I didn't think these details in the dream, I just knew that was what my turning away meant. And then the dream fractured and I was driving up to the restaurant, and I think I went in even though it wasn't my shift, finding my father in law and walking back out with him; he was trim and healthy and handsome as all of the men in that family are and I felt myself break inside and asked him how he had finally lost weight, how he was able to finally win. And he morphed into my grandfather, and I was looking into Joey's eyes, and he looked me straight in my eyes and pointed to the back of his head. It's in here, it all in your mind he said with every bit of his being - just radiating out the message to me. And then it was over, and I woke crying because I had not stayed asleep long enough to understand, and I missed my grandfather and my son so much in that moment that I prayed to them, asking for help, begging for them to stay with me.

Once fully awake and unable to get out of bed, I lay there watching tv and talking myself down from the grief, talking myself into a cup of coffee and moving and finding some bit of sanity to begin the day. So it was that I was sitting in bed drinking my decaf when A woke and came stumbling in for her early weekend snuggle and to show me she could read a book she had brought with her. Normal returned rather quickly after that, and I was up putting in laundry and starting the dishes while the Fam prepared for a morning of softball.

Now I am just exhausted, and my thoughts are once again full of family; sitting in grandpa G's lap while he watched tv, watching grandma H putting on make up and going through her box of costume jewelry that was so much a part of her personality. Playing canasta with her on her beautiful back patio during my highschool years, spending time with Podder in his darkroom while he developed his pictures, visiting G & C where they lived in a gorgeous canyon and G playing guitar and C working at her pottery. Mommer puttering between the laundry room by the basement and the lanai where there were treasures to dream over. Upstairs to visit Aunt B and her porcelain doll in her beautiful attic room. Playing croquet with all of the cousins I loved so much and missed when we weren't together. So much family, so many memories, how on earth can I be sad and weepy with those to draw on; how did I end up here coming from that? It's a mystery, and I have to believe it will all work out in the end.

How I wish my heart would stop aching.

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