Tuesday, I went to bed with a sense of dread in my belly. Literally, I was having abdominal pain, and the thought crossed my mind that there might be a new tumor growing there. I also was experiencing painful sores in my mouth from the chemotherapy, and my energy level had been very low. I admit that death was roaming through my thoughts.
That’s why I wasn’t surprised when I woke up off and on throughout a restless night of sleep dreaming of my ancestors reaching out with enticing offers. I saw beautiful hills full of fruit trees, and a faceless chorus of my “ancestors” was inviting me to come and pick the fruit. Later, my Grandma Ruth, who died when I was 13, invited me to come with her for a nice bowl of tomato soup and a grilled cheese sandwich. In another restless episode, I found myself dreaming of a Kwanzaa/Hanukkah celebration in a submarine with my dad (who is very much alive).
I’ve hesitated writing about these dreams, which my dad told me were very weird, because they obviously weren’t ushering me into the netherworld. And I, of course, don’t usually attribute that kind of power to dreams anyway. Not to mention, I was afraid to write about these dreams because I didn’t want you to think I am actually going insane over here in Indianapolis.
But perhaps against my better judgment, here I am writing about the ancestors because, for one thing, I actually think the dreams are pretty funny. Imagine my surprise to awake Wednesday morning not only very much alive, but actually feeling a lot better than I had when I went to bed the night before. I wasn’t disappointed.
I also realized that perhaps I have been spending a little too much time thinking about my life and my death and not enough time picking fruit, eating grilled cheese sandwiches, and celebrating Kwanzaa (I realize it’s a little late for this year). If anything, I think the ancestors from my dreams may have been echoing LL’s comment from a couple of days ago that it might be a good idea to muse a while on something OTHER than cancer.
Yesterday, Jesus provided just such an opportunity. After my friend Sarah dropped off some art magazines and a book of essays on rural life, I spent the evening planning my next watercolor project and reading about bundles of twine. I also envisioned the gardens I will plant when Spring rolls around, and even imagined what I would do with a million dollars while I watched “Deal or No Deal.” (Does anyone actually understand the point of that show?)
Last night, the ancestors were gone again, apparently having completed their work. And I feel a renewed sense that Jesus isn’t ready for my life to be over yet.
Not for now, at least.
Charity,
Hope you’re staying warm and feeling better. Blessings on you, sister!
LOVE TO YOU!
Praying that you can really live and be in the present moment and savor the little things…grilled cheeses, celebrations, stars at night, the coming of Spring…
love your precious authenticity.
I, on rare ocassion, have a dream about my dad who passed away in 1983. It makes me feel like I had a little extra time with him. I smile when I wake up, then I ache because it makes his absence all the more real…and raw. But mostly, I smile.
Glad to see you post again. I was starting to get a bit concerned. You are producing fruit by sharing your journey. You are soooo right. Eat of the vine, for the Kingdom of God is AT hand…it is now…
Blessing to you, my sister in Christ!
I like how you pulled meaning from your dreams and shared it with us. I’ve been reading The Soul Tells A Story by Vinita Hampton Wright and just finished the chapter on dreams. So immediately when I began reading your post I connected it to her words – particularly the idea of our minds processing things for us while we sleep .
I hope we get to see that watercolor!
Dont always discount your dreams.. God uses them sometimes, even if bizarre.
Good to see you writing and sharing. Keep it up!
I’ve been blessed by dreams where I was visiting with one grandmother or another who has gone ahead to heaven. I just like to think that God is gifting me with a short visit with some of my favorite people.
And I agree with L.L. – sometimes we dwell on the future so much that we forget to enjoy the moment we’re in.
Charity,
Thanks for sharing that. Really neat to see how God is breathing into you that fresh hope and invigoration of his life. And nice that we can enjoy God’s good gifts even in this fallen mess we’re in. So good.
Blessings on you, sister.
Charity, that really touched me… the idea that we can also live too much as if it is. I was thinking last night that what goes on here, between us all, is so rich. And the more honest and reflective we are, the richer it gets. A gift, really a gift.
Nancy — Come on over and we’ll share a sandwich!
Christianne — I think it’s easy for any big thing in my life to become all consuming. Cancer isn’t the first issue to take that position.
Erin — Between our excessive use of parenthetical elements, and now these crazy dreams, I think we truly are kindred spirits.
LL — It’s easy to live as if the “day” is not coming, and yet I now see it’s too easy to live as if it is. This tension of trust in the only one who knows our days is a life’s work all its own.
Shlomo — Thanks for faithfully stopping by. Your encouragement means so much. I’m glad my perspective seems fresh and not too bizarre!
Spaghettipie — I do so much processing through my dreams. The few dreams I’ve shared here are just part of a long and vivid dream life that has often revealed itself to be humorous and a bit frightening!
I find dreams to be completely fascinating. They say that toddlers often assimilate new learnings into their brains through dreams, and I’m sure some level of that never goes away. Thanks for being vulnerable. I’ll definitely be thinking about your words, and maybe I’ll dream about grilled cheese sandwiches tonight, too.
B”H
Hi Charity,
Thanks again for sharing your life via thoughts and images with us. Just as it is said that one man’s trash is another man treasure, so is it also that one person’s delusion is another’s delight.
We are so grateful for the fresh perspective you give to life in both the good and the bad times. I pray that you will continue to grow in knowledge and love, through the power of the LORD.
Blessings,
Shlomo
This was so beautiful it made me weep. Because none of us really knows the day, right? And in the meantime too many of us forget to pick the fruit, eat the comfort of bread and cheese from our loved-ones’ hands, celebrate the quirky and the wonderful, dive under the ocean if you will.
I am so, so glad you chose to share these dreams. Though I understand your hesitance… I felt a little funny writing about mine on Love Notes the other day! I think we’ve all read too much Freud and are too shy about sharing these incredibly powerful things called dreams, that tell us what we really need to know.
So glad you chose to be vulnerable. That’s the best blessing a writer can give (so, to answer your question over on “Words on Words”, yes YOU ARE STILL a writer.)
This post it simply enjoyable. I’m smiling, laughing, remembering my weird dreams, and very glad that someone else in the world refrains every now and then for worry that the rest of us might think her insane.
When I’m pregnant I have the most vivid and off-the-wall dreams… frying faces in frying pans… other people pregnant with kittens…
See? I never said anything because I didn’t want to reveal my sanity issues.
Now the cat is out of the bag.
(And my wacky dreams stopped immediately when my babies were born.)
Happy Post-Kwanzaa.
Mmmm, what a beautiful reflection, Charity. I love the way you saw it — that perhaps it means that you haven’t been spending enough time with grilled cheese sandwiches and Kwanzaa celebrations. And I agree with Nancy: a grilled cheese sandwich sounds quite tasty to me, too, right now! One of those comfort foods. 🙂
a grilled cheese sandwich sounds pretty tasty!