I just woke up from a dream: I dreamt I missed my mother’s funeral and was utterly distraught. Martin and my friends were there but somehow I had been distracted and was doing something else. I arrived at the wake after the service had finished and just walked round weeping and wailing. The old friend I went to visit 2 days ago was in it and there was a lot of cycling too… all very weird. It’s also really odd when you know that my mother died 43 years ago, long before I met Martin, and I really did miss her funeral… I was 12 and wasn’t invited. I wonder if I asked my 83 year old dad where her ashes are if he would tell me? Best not – there are too many ghosts down that road for the dementing old man – but when I woke up I could still feel the grief I’d never really been able to express as a child…
Where do all these mixed up thoughts come from? My brain must have been having a massive clear-out session, a chemical metdown! It’s left me feeling sad and kind of ‘out of it’ – like looking down upon my life from above; the mixture of the near and distant past, the carefree cycling downhill of recent days, a green garden outside a big old house, so many random friends from years ago, my husband playing host. Yes, there are significant times I know that God is speaking through my dreams, but even if I share it with that 21 year old who’s just joined our church who says he can interpret them like a modern day Daniel or Joseph, I don’t think he’d make much sense of this one! Facing death, release of emotions, loss… I can see that for myself: my subconscious is in turmoil.
I’ve also been remembering this time last year – I realised we were in Menorca with Sam and fairly newly-arrived Jessica – and Becca too – for 10 days at the end of May and on return our son proposed to his American lady. All that seems so long ago now – and so painful to recall – the romance, hope and fun of having Jessa here, Sam’s infatuation, the efforts that we went to to help them work it out… the failed engagement and heartbreak when he called it off. As if to underline the anniversary, I found the erstwhile fairly silent Jessa’s comments waiting for me on my blogs and facebook when I opened up my laptop this morning to employ the therapy of writing: it turns out she has been remembering it too.
All we can ever do is go with the flow of life. Even in the pain and loss that is part of all our experience there is nothing other to do than keep going, persevere… We have some happy memories – so is it worse to have lost those things or nice to remember? Both/and! I loved this recent Richard Rohr soundbite though – it rings so true: ‘Faith is not for overcoming obstacles, it is for experiencing them – all the way through!’ I wouldn’t be the woman I am now without the journey through the happy and the sad times: faith has kept my feet on the road and hope fixes my eyes on the horizon… Well actually, in my case, my eyes are fixed on Jesus’ face, the Pioneer who has walked this road before and calls us heavenward; surely all of this will make sense when we get there. But until then – there is no escape… we keep walking, keep loving – and keep dreaming.
Meanwhile, back in today, in the real world, in my diary… well I do have some space in the sun to rest and there’s the weekend coming up with Martin… But I have also noticed one of those nice co-incidences through which I hear God speak and it’s woken me up again to what He might be doing underneath the events of the last few weeks.
If you’ve been following our long-suffering with Sam, you’ll know the patience we’ve required in getting the internet installed in his house. In the middle of our scan result reactions another twist of fate on this same theme – and probably the straw that broke the camel’s back – Sam tripped over his laptop wires and brought his constant companion crashing to the ground. It’s been broken so many times before, but now it’s out of warranty: this was one more devastating blow! Once the shouting had died down, a new plan had to be made asap to get a replacement life-support machine in order to rescue him from despair: it turns out it will be Sam’s 9th, which is pretty good going for a 25 year old! Don’t ask how much he’s going to spend (in installments) on the super-whizzy new pc that’s guaranteed to be the best and never let him down: we stretch out once again to help him stay on top and independent – and yes, that’s for my sake as well as his.
Apparently this paragon of computers is being delivered to our son on 1st June; meanwhile, apart from using his phone at home, it does mean he still has to come back here every couple of days when he needs to borrow my computer! But recognising that it will be 40 days since Virgin Media laid the cable to his house on 23rd April, St George’s Day, this turn of events has at least made me smile… How can this be a spiritual journey through a wilderness, a time of transformation and gestation? Believe me, it can and is!
The battle to get Sam disconnected from me and connected in 8c has been far from routine and vital to both of us and it speaks of something bigger going on – apart from what it does for Sam, it’s also my release into a whole new phase! The signs of this are there in what has happened in these past 5 weeks – and if I had not seen the 40 marked like that perhaps they would have gone unnoticed underneath the dark cloud of emotion, with it’s associated exhaustion, generated by the brush with medical realities.
But this post is long enough and time has gone. I need my space right now and so I’ll leave the details for another day 🙂