by Diane
The early morning dream was just before I would awaken for the day - a time for almost lucid dreaming.
The dream took place at an Arizona highway gas/deli convenience store. Coming back from the toilets, Fisherman Hubby beckoned me to go back to the van across the street to leave. I didn't want to leave before eating at the café, but I followed reluctantly across the street where the others were gathering to leave. I was tardy being last in the group to leave. As I slowly walked across the street towards the van, I was flabbergasted. At the right of us was a large black cinder cone-shaped old fumarole.
I turned to Fisherman Hubby, " The fumarole has eroded a lot since we were here last." No answer. I turned away towards the increasingly quickening to fall black stones running as fast as water into a hole surrounding the fumarole. The falling black shiny stones were not threatening me. To the contrary, they were falling into a deep hole in the ground. The glittering black rocks were moving too fast to see their actual composition but they reminded me of semi-precious jet. Jet like Jean-Val-Jean the convict turned his convict identity around by establishing a factory making black jet buttons and with the profits he became a philanthropist.
I waited for surely I would be missed and the van and Fisherman Hubby would come right back for me. When it didn't, I felt a little empty with thoughts of never seeing Fisherman Hubby ever again. I was mostly concerned about not having my purse with ID and credit cards. As I walked back towards the Deli, I didn't look back. I entertained thoughts of how I could manage now. Be like an amnesiac? I now am free to make a new identity separate from my marriage identity entwined with Fisherman Hubby.
In retrospect after being fully awake I see the black volcanic cone like the unexpressed anger that grew in our relationship between me and Fisherman Hubby as his ALS progressed. Also my growing fear that his anger would erupt. For short spirts before exhaustion he was frightfully strong in legs, arms and hands. Plus he was not aware, how in his need to control me, he could push his fingers into my chest hard enough to really hurt me. I did once yell at him not to push me and his feelings were very hurt that I would think he could and would.
In my new beginnings I revel in the spaciousness of our home. And I continue to find it hard to give up some of his things. Do I really need two really heavy 5 foot long crow bars? I just gave away to a grand child Fisherman Hubby's waffle maker.
With this post, I am thinking the widowhood series is winding down and I am taking a short recess until April. In April when the shop/studio will be useable and I will be sharing the results. Now on to doing taxes and such.
6 comments:
Fascinating. Wondering what our dreams really mean and why I cannot remember them all.
Tabor, mostly I do not remember them either. The important thing I try to remember is my emotional response while I was dreaming.
Interestingly while my Fisherman Hubby was still alive but sure to die soon, my dreams of road trips culminated in being left behind by a group without him in the group was much more anxious. Or I had so much baggage in many bundles that I could not manage. So different now I am fine without even a purse and ID.
I think it's good your dreams can help you deal with emotions 'we' deem as not okay. I have long thought, after hearing of all you went through with this illness that eventually claimed the love of your life (so far anyway) that you could get post traumatic stress illness. It was such a difficult time, beyond imagining for most of us. Dreams can be healing as they let out what needs releasing.
Thanks Rain.
Tabor, mostly I do not remember them either. The important thing I try to remember is my emotional response while I was dreaming.
Interestingly while my Fisherman Hubby was still alive but sure to die soon, my dreams of road trips culminated in being left behind by a group without him in the group was much more anxious. Or I had so much baggage in many bundles that I could not manage. So different now I am fine without even a purse and ID.
Had another dream Friday night. Fisherman Hubby and I were on a train trip but not sitting together. When our stop came he was just ahead of me while I was struggling with too much luggage. He often walked ahead of me like a gentleman. He got off and I was fumbling with my bags and decided I didn't have them all and returned to my seat, grabbed the main suitcase and when I finally got back to the door, the conductress shut the door and started the train. At the next stop a few blocks away from the last, I still couldn't hold all the bags at once and the woman conductor did not let me off. Starting up again she surged full speed ahead. The next stop was a thousand miles away. I pleaded with the conductress. To let me off at the next small town. Only she said if you are a representative of an organization like Safeway, or some technology start up. I thought of my art teaching and was wondering what to call myself as representing what I do. I woke up grinding my teeth and concluded with the thought - at least in this dream I had a purse with ID that I could use to stretch my involvement in Fish and Wildlife programs where I teach art.
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