I guess these past two weeks have been dominated by my dreams, but at least last night’s dreams were much more welcome. I dreamed of my Daddy who died in April of 2000. He was vibrant, healthy and happy in the landscapes of this dream. I love dreaming of those I’ve lost as long as the dreams are happy. After the dreams of last week, this one was great. The downside to dreaming about him is that I have to wake up, and it’s usually many, many months before I dream of him again. I miss him so much, but am grateful he’s gone and not witness to the demise of my family. He would’ve hated seeing all of us, including his oldest granddaughter in so much pain. He loved her so much.
I wonder if our daughter ever dreams of us and if she ever misses us. My guess is no, but I’ll never know. She has made it clear that she wishes us gone, and we have no desire to try and reconnect. It sounds harsh, but when someone you’ve loved so much spreads lies and spews hatred towards you, you have to come to the realization that no matter what you try to do or say, your words and actions become fuel for their fires of discontent and you just have to stop trying. I know that estranged parents and alienated grandparents never go a single hour of life without thought of those they’ve been cut off from. It’s like the soundtrack from your favorite movie that you can’t get out of your head. You repeat it over and over and over, never growing tired of the music. I am tired of the endless ache of missing my grandson and granddaughter. I am tired of seeing how much my husband hurts but says he doesn’t. I am tired of feeling so many emotions in the course of every day. I need rest… I crave rest… I fear rest will never come, though.
I have been feeling angry about the estrangement these past few days and especially yesterday. Something happened in the family that the oldest should’ve been included in, and because she has decided we all don’t matter, it appears events don’t matter either. All I could think was that she should be here with us and she’s not. As time goes on I understand that longing never dies, but it does ease. I wish that easing were here already, I really abhor becoming angry. The anger only affects me, and when that happens I just get angrier and angrier. I’m better today, just a bit melancholy. The melancholy is always present, it ties directly to this MiMi’s heart missing her grands, not the daughter. I’ve come to accept the loss, what else can I do?
How do you mend such brokenness and find the hidden beauty in the pieces that remain of your broken heart? It’s not easy, and the fight to remain positive is exhausting. I believe that staying busy helps to keep the bulk of the feelings at bay, but when the waves of emotion crash unexpectedly, give yourself some grace. When you lay your head down to sleep, try thinking of that which brings joy. I know it sounds simple, but it’s far from simple. As wounded as we are from the estrangement, we find thinking positively, especially in the quiet hours of our lives is almost impossible. I wish with all my heart I could erase the pain of those I love and rebuild our lives, but I can’t. I can offer to hold a hand, give a hug and try to encourage. It’s all I have. I pray for dreams that I don’t remember, I just don’t want to wake up hurting any more than I already do. I don’t want that for anyone.
I’ll end for now as I’m beat from working in the 100+ degree heat that has gripped the southeast this week. May your dreams be sweet and filled with love…