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These dreams … (and dreams we have for others)
Last night I dreamed my mother was pregnant. The shock that she was carrying a child at her age gave way to wonder. I felt a sense of peace and safety and excitement.
I was in the hospital with her, for a check up or perhaps because the time was close to meet the little one?
I looked at her swollen belly and then into her eyes. She was smiling in a tired yet calm way, and had some bad news.
The baby wasn’t going to make it.
It wasn’t long after that ‘scene’ when we were in a gymnasium, and she was finalizing plans with a score keeper to try again. I didn’t even question why he would be the father. It just seemed like a business transaction.
I noticed my mom online this morning and told her: “I dreamed you were pregnant.” She responded “We weren’t going to tell anyone just yet.”
That made me smile.
I am fortunate to have a mother with a sense of humor.
I researched the symbology of seeing someone pregnant. It said: “To dream someone else is pregnant indicates that you are experiencing a closer connection to this person.”
So what did they say it meant to lose the baby?
“Suggests that some idea or plan did not go as expected. The dream may also serve as a warning against your continued course of action. You need to alter your path or risk losing something of significance and value to you.”
Hmmmm ….
I have my own theory.
I’m ashamed to admit, I’ve had some resentment lately.
Nicholas returned from England and the next step was to enroll in college and look for his first job.
I stand by my theory that no one can want anything FOR you. While you can suggest, encourage and support, you can’t want someone into doing something.
Of course I’ve discussed school with Nic. But in my opinion, unless it’s something he wants for himself, he won’t put in the work.
I planted seeds and offered ideas and hoped to see him decide to take that path on his own. For him to make the effort to look into how to make it happen.
And he has.
Yesterday he went to the college and in the evening, we pushed “Submit” on his student aid application.
My resentment comes from the fact that every conversation I’ve had with my mother lately includes her telling me what Nic has to do.
As if I’ve been dropping the ball on the whole ‘raising your child’ thing.
“He needs to go speak to a counselor at the college.” “He needs to apply for jobs.”
I think a part of me feels like she doesn’t trust my mothering.
I felt talked down to, like a little girl being given directions because she couldn’t figure it out on her own.
And the feeling returned that Nicholas is not mine, but hers.
I sat in that feeling and it wasn’t comfortable.
So I shifted my thoughts and my position.
Nicholas isn’t mine. He does not belong to anyone. “God doesn’t have grandchildren” came to mind.
I considered that I’m fortunate to have others love and care about my son. The directions come from a well intended place.
I have to take myself and my pride out of the equation – because it’s not about me.
I don’t know what it’s like to be a grandmother. I can only imagine. I imagine it’s indescribably amazing.
The love I have for my son is the most honest and pure and complete love I’ve known. So to one day, perhaps, hold his child? My eyes are watering just imagining it.
And I’ll want the best for his son or daughter. And if I’m fortunate enough to be there and to know my grandchild – I’m sure I’ll offer Nic advice.
But I trust the person that he is – even now. I know his values and his heart. I know that he will be an incredible father one day.
Musings from the Laundromat: Catch Up edition
Everything I said that I would do while Nic was gone, I did not do.
I did manage to accomplish getting hooked on two shows.
Not only did I watch all the episodes of the Orange Is The New Black first season – but I decided to out do myself and see what all the fuss was about with regards to Breaking Bad.
54 episodes on Netflix. 3 episodes on ‘On Demand’. And the series recording is set for the new and final episodes.
Where WAS I for this show?? I think everything happens for a reason, so the reason I wasn’t watching Breaking Bad in ‘real time’ these past few years, was probably to spare me the agony of having to wait for the next episode every week!
I’m caught up now – and will be anxiously waiting for the last few with the rest of you.
I have interviews coming up that I’m excited about. One was going to be conducted today, but I asked for a delay. Not only is the topic one I have to research at length before ‘sitting down’ with my subject, but I knew I needed today free. (More on that in a paragraph or two. )
The other interview will be the long-awaited ‘Part II’ with Rainer. Just not sure which direction I want to go with it. I told him it’s time – but he gives me such freedom that it’s almost as hard to write as it is to pick something off an expansive menu to order!
So I took the cowards way out and put the decision in his hands. Then I’ll take it from there.
(At this point finding part I will take clicking on the ‘Interviews’ category on the right hand side of the blog, or using the search tool at the top right hand side.)
It’s been a long time since part I. But, Rainer and I have stayed in touch the whole time – so I promise there will be an amazing read coming up.
Now, the reason I wanted to have today free (other than doing laundry of course) …
My boy is back!
I was so excited yesterday! Couldn’t wait to get to the airport. I did the mandatory “Are we there yet?” “Are we there yet?” the entire trip to Vegas. Of course, I knew we weren’t there yet … but it’s fun to say.
I watched as person after person came through the little corridor – and then! My boy.
Yes, I cried.
The first thing Nic wanted was ‘American Cheese’. That bite of burger was almost as satisfying to watch happen as I’m sure it felt eating it.
Now, as exhausted as he was – after a ten and a half hour flight, and an hour and a half car ride back to ‘home’, we had a concert to go to. I gave him an out, but he assured me he could handle it.
After I quickly changed and swiped my lipstick on – he wanted to change his mind.
There is no cancelling after lipstick has been applied. (Especially if you’re me and don’t wear a lot of make-up.)
Write this down men.
There is nothing worse than ‘wishful make-uping’
So we went. But, knowing how tired he was, we didn’t stay for the whole thing.
I have taught my boy well – I KNOW how to ‘concert’ and he does too. Once the music started, he found the perfect spot at the stage for us to be.
My ear drums are well-trained, so there was no danger of having them blown out considering the fact that a speaker was right next to me – but I was in danger of having my hand stepped on by the singer.
Took some amazing video that I wish I could share with you. One day I’ll upgrade to have that capability. Then you’ll wish I hadn’t. 😉
So here I am, the laundry is done, and my bird is back in the nest and I’m drinking banana milk!
Nic not only knows how to ‘concert’ he knows how to ‘gift’ very thoughtfully.
These are just a few of the things he brought back to me from England.
Someone has been paying attention for the past 18 years. The Mr. Men book … and Alice – such huge parts of my childhood. The banana Nesquik – my favorite milkshake. He also gave me a Monet print of the Thames (I have a few Monet’s) and Beefeater chapstick. (I always have a chapstick next to my bed.)
Thought FULL!
Then came a letter … written in this card – and when I read it, I was undone.
I’ll keep the words to myself – except for this sentence, because when I read it I had to giggle.
I also felt awful – imagining him about to write an amazing, sweet, heartfelt letter and because he knows how I am, inserted this line:
“Before we go any further, I’m sorry for any poor grammar that might ensue.”
LOL!
Of course, the above funny picture is only partly accurate – I would have spelled ‘you’re’ right.
What he hasn’t figured out yet in 18 years, is that I completely abuse the rules for punctuation marks.
I’ll put that on my list of things to work on next time I’m left unattended for a length of time. And then I won’t get that done either.
Departure day
Back from Vegas. The morning was filled with a lot of Nic pacing and being eager to go. My morning was filled with a lot of watching Nic pace and not wanting the morning to end.
We took some more photos together. This is what I do. If the dog were to sneeze adorably I’d be looking around for my camera. I drive Nic crazy, I know I do – but he was a good sport about my many picture requests and video requests – until we reached the airport and by that time he was giving me the celebrity glare.
From the morning session – before he viewed me as paparazzi
Then I became the annoying photog at the airport
Exchanging boarding pass info for ‘real’ ticket
Exchanging some dollars for pounds
Could have sworn that thing was over the 50 lb limit when we packed it. lol. Well under!
Told you, I photograph everything
The last one he’d allow of us together
The airport ‘people-delivery’ is a lot different than I remember. There is no drawn out ‘good-bye’ time as non-ticket holders are not allowed past the security check points anymore. No hugging as they board. No watching the plane take off from the boarding area.
So it’s say “good-bye” and watch your loved one approach the x-ray machine and strip search/body cavity probe area. Okay, I exaggerate, but there WAS a full body x-ray machine thingy!
Yes, at this point, and after the last photo together – I was crying. Not as much as I thought I would.
It’s hard to be sad when you know something wonderful is awaiting the person you love. I’m too excited for him to be sad.
Then I get home and my boy posted some photos of his own. One of food, lol and then this one:
The caption he put was “Our plane! :)”
I think he’s excited. And considering his plane took off almost an hour ago – I’m sure he’s already acquainted himself with all the buttons, gadgets, bathroom locations and has already had his tray in the upright and down position. LOL.
I said to Nic on the way:
“Isn’t it funny? Months ago we were on this same road, but going the other direction – talking about how you wanted to go to England and how amazing it would be if you could go. And here we are on our way … you with a passport and a ticket. You see, anything is possible.”
From this POST <– click here
To reality.
Dreams come true.
**Update!** I forgot to mention the most important part! I snuck a little something in his case … He can’t possibly go to England without a naked mole rat. Debauchery Soup is represented! 😉
‘Twas the night before England …
And all through the house, the A/C was stirring …
I’m not even going to try – because all I can think of right now to rhyme IS actually mouse, and I don’t think we have one.
We did it. Nic boards the plane tomorrow for his adventure.
So, tonight, we’re sitting in our pajamas, all washed up for bedtime – neither of us wanting to go to sleep.
Doing what we do best – being complete dorks together.
Watching funny YouTube videos and me … snapping silly pictures of us.
This next month or so … prepare for my descent into madness as I document life in the house sans Nic.
I’ll share his photos, his news and my increased bonding with the dog.
Musings from the laundromat – Lightning Crashes edition
I sat outside under the night sky last night – feeling the thunder vibrate through me – smelling the rain that did not fall. Lightning flashed in random ‘peek-a-boo’ fashion, making clouds temporarily visible.
And I was contemplating.
Nic goes to England in just 3 days. For a month at least – perhaps indefinitely, if it is to be his path.
I’ve had so much on my mind lately, time slipped by on cat feet. Quickly and quietly.
Just what am I going to do alone with my thoughts? Probably have more of them.
As I stepped inside, ironically, ‘Lightning Crashes’ was being performed acoustically on the tv. Live was providing my thoughts some background music.
As if my thoughts need them.
My internal tangents have theme songs and a cast and crew … lighting and screen writers – production staff and catering. It’s quite heady really. Independent tangents of course, we have a budget you know.
But, a tangent was born. The song reminded me of someone I dated. He was in a band (shocking, I know.) He played the bass and when his band performed that particular song, he would come down from the stage and slow dance with me until he had to join in.
The drums and bass aren’t involved until the end of the 2nd verse of the song – and that is when my dance ended. Then up on stage he would go and I would find my seat.
I seem to have so many stories like that – but no book. So many ‘almosts’ but no ‘ever after’. I’m to blame for most of them, I know. I pushed people and opportunities away. So stubborn. And never willing to settle.
I’ve always had big dreams of what life and love is supposed to be. I still do.
When you’ve seen what I’ve seen and experienced what I’ve experienced, life gets bigger and so does your soul and heart and dreams.
And I still will not settle. I will wait. I will wait for the man with the broken heart and haunted past – who is meant for me.
The first I knew of true love – unconditional, pure love was when I gave birth. They say that will be the case to first time mothers (and fathers.) “The minute you lay eyes on that baby, THEN you’ll know what love is.” ‘They’ were right.
Although, if I’m being honest, when Nicholas Avery Charles was laid in my arms, and when I looked down and said my first word to him “Hi.” I didn’t feel that intense burst of love right away.
I felt like a terrible mother then – wasn’t there supposed to be internal fireworks going on? A sudden and profound new-found feeling of the maternal variety?
I was madly in love with my son when I carried him. I loved every hiccup, every kick. I spoke to him – I caressed my belly and imagined what my baby would look like, what he or she would sound like. I chose not to know the sex of my baby – I found out (obviously) when the doctor announced “It’s a son.”
I missed being pregnant for a little while after he was born. I truly missed it. Perhaps it felt safer carrying him inside of me – where he was alive and mine and protected from the world. I don’t know.
Oh, the postpartum love came. It came like a love tsunami – my heart was filled to overflowing.
I barely let him sleep in his crib at home. I would ‘accidentally’ bump into it so that he would wake up. “OH! Are you awake? Let me hold you.” And for hours I would breathe in the scent of him as he fell back asleep on my chest.
I loved my son with a heart I didn’t know I had.
I would lay down and die for my son if need be.
I would do anything to ensure he has a chance for a life filled with memories, love, hope, dreams and wonder.
And … I would send him away from me.
And I am.
And I hope that he finds those things on his journey. I’m giving him all I have to give, an opportunity. A ticket to see more than his small home town. A chance.
Perhaps years from now, he’ll sit outside as a storm brews and recall this upcoming adventure – lose himself in thought with a smile on his face. Then go back inside of his home and share a story with his family.
Debauchery Soup 