Dreaming Helpful Nonsense

I had the strangest dream the other morning. I was in the kitchen with Gina, my sister who died, and Mary. I wanted to bake something and Mary wanted to help. She was sitting in her wheelchair in front of the sink and grabbed hold of the edge of the sink to pull herself up. I helped her sit back down saying, "Mary, honey, you're 98 years old! You can't do things like you used to be able to." I thought, " Wow! I forgot how hard this was!" Then at some point I was holding her, sort of like a baby, and I noticed one of her toes. It had a very healthy--looking nail growing back but the top part was missing and I remembered that the doctor had removed the toenail--just a part of the dream. The sign of this healthy toenail growing back made me think that Mary was healthy and I said to Gina, "I guess God decided to give Mary back to me!" Gina answered, "Yeah! It looks like he did!" Then I woke up.

I know this dream is complete nonsense, but I feel oddly comforted by it. I have felt so abandoned by Mary. When Eddie died, I could still feel his presence--maybe because he lived so far away that his death didn't seem real. When Gina died, I dreamt about her so often, that she seemed to still be with me. But I haven't dreamt much about Mary and since she was with me all the time, I feel her absence quite acutely.

Someone told me once that they think when you dream about someone who's dead, they're visiting you. So I was equally blessed to be visited by Gina and Mary at the same time!

My Heart Still Aches...

I still miss Mary so much! In fact, I tear up all the time. I'm starting to wonder if something's wrong with me. Should I have kept taking that OCD medicine? Am I abnormal? I cry for so many different reasons anymore. Maybe that's just part of getting older. I cried buckets when I saw a video called "Dancing Wedding." I cry when I hear about something bad on the radio. When I see upsetting pictures in the paper. When I think about Mary. I realized today that her medminder is still on her dresser--with pills in it. I haven't gone through her things. I can't bear the thought of giving her underwear to anyone. Isn't that crazy?

I met a cousin today and gave her the hand-painted china Mary had from this cousin's grandmother. I felt guilty because many of the things had Mary's name painted on them. What happens when there's nothing else left to prove a person's existence? Well, prior existence?

The dogs are out in the car and won't come in, and this is making me cry. I hit my head the other day and that made me cry.

I'm tired of working for my brother and sister-in-law. It's not getting me anywhere. I'm tired of doing cakes. That's not getting me anywhere, either. Where do I want to go? Won't any job be boring? All I can imagine is teaching (and I can tell you a thousand reasons why I don't want to do that) or being a librarian (and the boringness of that prospect scares me stiff). And what if I can't find a job doing either here in Louisville?! I've been neglecting Mom.

I feel scared a paralyzed and tired and lonely and in pain--sometimes literally from my cyst or feet. At least I'm not having migraines like I used to. But I just want the past back. I want it back now! It was there and everything was going along and then, boom, it was gone, all gone. I felt her slip between my fingers and then she was gone. I want her back. I want things to be like they used to be. That was my life. This is not my life. This life makes no sense. How can the meaning of my life have become synonymous with Mary? She was my rock and now I have no foundation. It's like Nikki said--Mary was the dock that I had anchored my boat to. I do things. I mean, hell, winning seven ribbons at the fair is doing something! But nothing has any meaning if it's not shared with this woman who didn't even know who I was sometimes! Does that make any sense? Humans find over and over again that it's never worth doing something for ourselves. We were meant to be part of a pair, at least.

I don't want this loneliness! I used to tell Mary when she was lonely when I'd be gone to school or something that maybe loneliness was really the devil tricking us, because if we really believed in God, we'd know that we're never truly alone. But when I think about that my heart aches for her having felt lonely. My heart aches so much for Mary. Why didn't I spend more time with her? I was in the kitchen too much! I didn't talk to her enough. I left her alone so much...

I guess I'll go see if the dogs want to come inside. Maybe if I take them for a walk, I'll feel better. (But I know I won't really.) Well, I've got two cakes to decorate for tomorrow, so I'll just have to get over all of this anyway...