Friday, July 19, 2013

Waters and Dreams and Time

Molly has pretty much refused to leave my side since Dad got sick. I sent her with a babysitter once to give myself a break, but other than that she's been her preternaturally well-behaved and sweet-natured self.

Yesterday I asked her if she wanted to go pray. She attended a vacation bible school with a friend and is very interested in Christianity right now. We went to the chapel, which was a small, soothingly dark room with a few simple crosses and a small pedestal. (Is that what you call them in a church? Is it a pulpit or is that a figurative place and not furniture?)

She immediately frowned at me and said that she'd rather go outside to the fountain to pray. We went to the flat wall-fountain at CAMC General, which would be a thing of perfection if they hadn't painted a logo on it. I asked if she wanted to pray aloud or silently, and she asked me to pray out loud for us both. I called on Jesus and Great Mother to watch over our family, to send Grandaddy healing and strength, and to hold us all. We talked about water, about Wicca's Four Sacred Things, and about baptism. I told her I'd explain baptism further later, and if she decides she wants that I'll ask our UU ministers Mel and Rose, who presided over Shane's and my wedding, to perform it. But later; she is so young.

I'm musing on the evolution of my spirituality since mom's illness. I have become much more comfortable with atheism since then, though my truest feeling is pantheism- an omnipresent connection and sacredness in everything. All that is, is Goddess. And using the feminine will always, always feel more right for me.

I dreamt last night that it was a hard-frozen winter. Shane found two huge butterflies. They were rainbow colored and so large I was afraid of them. I do have an aversion to touching insects, but love to see butterflies and dragonflies and fireflies. These great butterflies were in hibernation, but one awoke, and it flew near me, and it landed on my arm. I was petrified, as if it was a huge wasp and not a lovely creature. The second butterfly was weak and small and waking more slowly. Then the dream shifted onward.

Molly had watched Wild Kratts yesterday morning, and they showed how to hold a monarch butterfly and tag it for research. So I wonder if the dream was just the image surfacing and playing with my fear of bugs, or if the butterflies were my Dad and his Love.  Now I remember there was a pupa, too, who looked like a rainbow'd, wingless dragonfly. Or maybe the dream is showing me that I'm fearing change.

But change right now is what I want to see. I'm so worn down by seeing the same look on the surgeon's face every day. The disappointment that the infection has spread, the look that speaks to how much he wishes he had something new to tell us, that they are getting ahead of the illness.

I'm so weary- that is the exact word. I am weary of waiting for change and real news and of watching my Daddy (and Oh, my is he "Daddy" right now) go under anaesthesia and operations every day. Wanting to speak around a ventilator tube. It feels like it's been weeks instead of days. I'm trying to be in each day and each moment and not looking behind or ahead.

I keep holding Molly's warm little silken hand and just being her mama.
That's where my peace is right now.

1 comment:

  1. My heart is with you, Heidi. I remember the long days at my father's side during his illnesses. They were long days full of torment. I still dream of him, nearly every night. Keep writing down your dreams. They mean something, for sure.