laid down to take a nap, as is common before the weekend gathering. and, as is common of late, had a dream that has just now awakened me. couldn’t get to the computer right away, had to do something, so instead, took the hand-held recorder to catch it and now, some minutes later, back to the machine, transcribe it here.
in the dream, my daughter and i are in a very, very nice five-star hotel. i have no idea where it was. it has brick walkways, open, airy and intermittent lighting. exquisitely landscaped. wrought iron and cream lathe plaster and just… amazing.
it’s raining. i’m walking from the room to the main area/dining room. when i get there, i see her. she’s in the middle of the room. she is surrounded by people. she is laughing. she is happy. she is having fun. i watch the people around her… they adore her. they love her almost desparately. they vie for her attention. there is no doubt they are, each and every one, there for her in that moment. moths to flame.
she is… so… beautiful. and she is so happy. and i’m smiling just to be across the room, watching her. i’m so very proud of her… for being someone who can walk so well in the world… and for being there, in the middle of all, and love them all, and be loved by them all.
and i decide that i do not want to interrupt. so i turn and walk back to the room. i take the long route… it is raining still, but i don’t mind.
i stop and look at a wall of tea roses and ivy that encircles a gathering area… the scent, even in the rain, is amazing. there are enclosed candles in wrought-iron sconces that flicker from various points in this area… and the thick mist of the rain sets coronas around them all… the result, a diffuse, amber glowing that makes it all seem very other-dimensional.
i watch the cars go by, and some of them turn into the entrance to this place, which lays ahead of me. the cars are works of art. the people within almost as much so. i look down to my blue jeans and t-shirt and laugh at myself. what am i doing here? i do not belong.
it is raining harder, so i hurry back to the room. when i get there to the room, i find that it is absolutely filled to the brim with gifts. things that people have brought… for her… some of them are already open… so i know she has been there in the time i’ve been walking.
i see a small box that held jewelry… earrings, most likely. i see a box that likely held a bracelet or, if i know her, an anklet. i see a stack of books, and two people have sent her chocolate. one is un-opened, the other has what it contained missing. the un-opened one is set rather haphazardly on the edge of the dresser… the dismissed result of a choice it seems. she preferred the more expensive one… and i find myself wondering if she liked it because she liked it, or if she liked it simply because it was more expensive.
there are open boxes scattered across the bed. i stand there and am grinning to myself to imagine the breathless surprise and wonderment as she tore into each one and discovered what lay in them… and delighted in them and, apparently, immediately wore them to go out once more. and i am happy and thankful that she has people who adore her, people who will give to her, people who are willing to demonstrate care.
but i am also sad. because i remember a brief time when i had those things too… and i know how lovely and delightful they are, and i know how it feels… it feels really good. and standing there… alone… in the room… i realize how fleeting it is, how transitory, how it never lasts. i am sad because i do not want her to have to feel how it feels to discover that it doesn’t last. that it never lasts.
suddenly, i go from being very happy to being very sad, to crying. and i hear the door open behind me… and i think maybe it is her… coming to talk to me. i dry my tears and put on my ‘happy’ face and turn around to welcome her… but it is the maid.
the maid ignores me and straightens the place up… takes the open and slung about boxes and neatly stacks them on the credenza. cleans up the wrapping paper and tissue paper, the ribbons and bows and price tags that have fluttered about to land on the floor.
finished with this, she turns and without looking at me directly, asks me if there is anything i need. i shake my head ‘no’… i don’t think there’s anything she can bring me that is going to help.
she leaves. and i sit quietly in the corner and i cry. the crying is what woke me.