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Dreams and Endings
Me and airports, grace of signs, without trying, thank you Jesus😄and the grace of Endings. Pool below, I first swam in at age 11. I took my mother there several times last week, visiting. It was empty, the water still, when we first arrived. I have never experienced the pool like this. I felt fear of the empty and calm inside me, a little uncomfortable to see it represented on the outside! We enjoyed the pool every day I visited. I passed that M.E. Flow sign on the first day! I did that, all week. My mom took us to the “pool” daily when we were kids, usually at the Officers Club. We reminisced daily. My mom is dying. Memory going, power gone. Her behavior is horrible, hideous and then filled with love. I know a few have recently lost their parents here. My heart goes out to you, again.
Right now is amazing, the FORGIVENESS. It is just more and more Freedom. I continue to remember more of the good, wonderful side effect. I was not harmed by normal mom stuff, I was harmed by abnormal mom stuff. It’s intense, a lot and starts young. I do not have that harm in me now. I forgive and forgive and then I hope I forgive. I thought I had, but it’s like bathing, it’s good to wash in it again and again, soothes and frees the soul. While actually bathing in the tub, I apologized, soothed a dark part of me, my messy me, angry beaten disheveled rage filled girl. I held her shoulder, told her again and again, I’m sorry. I loved her. I accepted her, finally. I wasn’t embarrassed. Goodness, there is so much re-collecting to do…. Funny, my mom has multiple see/hear/speak no evil little statues, golden monkeys and owl pot holders through the house. They guided me, one at a time, to new level of evil is “not.”
1st DREAM two nights ago (why I am sharing) I dreamt about both parents, dream I cannot quit crying for. Dad, Mom and I in a car from the 70’s/80’s, clear day, dad driving, mom and I are in back. A baby boy, a year old maybe, who could not use his voice, also in the car resting on the dashboard… where my dad placed him. I think it was part of my Dad, he was responsible for him. Breeze coming through the window, I closed it. I couldn’t hear them speaking, seeing the baby I worried the air vents would harm him, I thought I was being selfish. Then the baby looked up at me then, I nodded or saluted him or something. Like a grownup, not a baby, he lifted his brows, nodded, and smiled a little, rested his head back down. I put my hand on my dad’s left shoulder and I reached over and took my mom’s left hand with my right. It was all so clear, the day, her hand, his shoulder… They were talking about my dad. He mentioned a handful of people that appreciated him at a place they go to, my mom agreed with him. I felt I was with them, both. No battle, no trauma, no blame. I have never held my mother’s hand, with my hand on my dad’s shoulder, at the same time, in my life. I have not stopped crying. I am GRATEFUL for ALL things now, like down to little ribbons and bows, metaphorically and otherwise!! I am grateful for every moment, however small, I know them or they know me, even if only a little. It doesn’t matter. I AM HAPPY. I am Free, it seems! I LOVE. What need for complaint? What have I to do with lamentation now?
Patterned behaviors of abuse, like clockwork, would hit me every visit with them. It is embarrassing, I hardly ducked for, I didn’t call them out. Two visits ago though, that ended. I put foot down hard. I demanded an apology. I got one, my dad. This last visit, he pulled same old again, but like a knee jerk. I stood up and walked out. And then…my dad came upstairs and apologized to me! It was awkward and wonderful. 🥹 My feelings f–ing mattered. It’s uncomfortable for all when a scapegoat rises, but it is true, it is true people learn to adjust. 😉
2nd DREAM was tough. My mother’s body was deceased and on my bed. A woman there, like a doctor, said she would/could do autopsy right there. She cut organs open to extract things in them. I was horrified. Her body was so dark and sick. She went from organ to organ, then pulled out a clear bag of water or fluid from one. I do not know why/what that means…. (did get her to hydrate more, she’s never drinks, while I was there!?!).
I wish I understood what this meant. All of it.
“What Dreams May Come” with Robin Williams, used to make me think of my mom, back in old co-dep days, old masculine self trying to save…. her from her hell. The character succeeds after he risks it all in the name of love. But the real reason he succeeded was because love woke her up. She did not let him perish, for her sake. I did not save my mom. If I could have, I pray she forgives me. But I can love as greatly as possible now, not hold back. Then I may see… what. dreams. may. come. 🧡💜
About to journal, after this journal lol I jumped back into journaling with my mom, poolside!! I enjoyed it!!! Couldn’t believe the joy I felt EXPRESSING myself in a diary!!! I was so happy! 🤸♀️I wrote multiple pages, in bliss….. then out of nowhere, parent standing over me, screaming, demanding we leave, accusing me of made up nonsense. My happiness is still a threat to her (whatever uses her) but. I am not threatened, anymore.
My last day with them, I had a walk down a “new” path I noticed. It was a beautiful, beautiful evening, like they are now.. Took a pic of clouds and sky below. I just felt it all. I didn’t rush. I began to breathe in a way I haven’t, automatically. It was remarkable, to have come this far.
Thank you for listening!! ❤️💛 I pray all are coming along well with what’s left of ENDing and what is beginning! Much love!
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