Showing posts with label A grieving mother. Show all posts
Showing posts with label A grieving mother. Show all posts
Thursday, September 29, 2011
Dreams Tell All
The Truth In Dreams
It was extremely hot on stage as I took my final bow. Makeup was running down my neck and into my eyes. I scan the audience and that is when I see something, her face. Months, even years had passed since I saw anything but a shell of my daughter's body. Her reddish brown hair cut into a bob with short bangs. She was wearing a green dress with white trim. I knew she had on the black shoes we dropped off at the crematorium. I knew she would have them on. She loved to go out dressed to the tee. A girl's girl she was: prim and proper.
She was opposite of her mother, of course. I was a tom-boy as far back as I could remember. Sure my mom would take or send us to church in a dress, but it was not me. I like shorts or pants, even if my mother had sewn them herself. Elastic waist band and all.
I was glad to see her. The intensity of her presence meant a lot. Especially to a mother whose daughter had died before her. Parents are supposed to leave this earth before their children. But it happens. Something devastating takes them away from us. We can only hope they did not suffer, or are in any great pain where they might be.
She was saying it was okay for me to do what I needed to do. She would be at my side until the day I die. Maybe there would be lapse of time before I needed her again. To sooth my pain she would come when I needed her.
See I had not seen her face in my dreams for a long time. Parents often have a hard time looking at photos, or even videos, because it is hard, at least for me. I am not sure I could ever look at any of that stuff again. But I began worrying that I might not remember what she looked like. I had doubted my details. The last time I saw her in person was when she had passed away. It was in the hospital. They had left her on the gurney in her hospital gown. Surprisingly she was neatly groomed. Right down to the hairstyle in my dream. The hospital staff allow the parents to visit before her body is removed.
Moving on, and because of my experiences with psychic abilities, I had not wanted to have her visit me shortly after her death in an spirit form. Could anyone handle that? Somehow I managed to ward anything such as that off for all these years. See I donated some of her much needed her body parts to be used by other children who might need them to live a better life; it made me afraid I would see her with no eyes or skin. Maybe zombie like. She wouldn't have wanted me to be afraid. I had seen her pulsing spirit in animals and in my recent client's daughter. I will write about that one day. Animals and children have experiences with spirits. I have heard its amazing.
The night was coming to a close and the crowd had been entertained, time for me to come out of my guise, so she revealed herself. How do I interpret the whole dream? My feelings? Anelisa wants me to be myself, to relax and begin to enjoy my life. Sure things have drastically changed for the better, but I was having a hard time. My client’s daughter was dying from a similar heart disease, and I knew it from the first day we met. Years would go by as I was reliving my own daughter’s death again. Her mother was going through what I had already been through, and I was supposed to be a support system for their family? I barely had a support group myself.
In many ways working with their family did me move to a higher healing ground. I did begin to relax. My biggest loss outside of Anelisa's death was my happiness had disappeared, and I wanted to find it again. She was telling me things were going to be alright. She smiled at me in a way a mother smiles at their own children, in a way unconditional love would shine through. Like when women become pregnant, they have this glow. It never leaves a mother.
Next thing I know Anelisa and I are at home together (still in dream state). My new home in the north east. We go to sleep right next to each other. The next morning we woke up and I made breakfast for her step-dad and brother. When they come into the room I say Hey, look who came to see us! Both look at me like I was crazy. I hug my daughter and say, See she is right here. Everything is going to be alright!
Afterward, I woke up with such a strong feeling she had been right next to me. Through the whole night I could feel her. They say when an arm is damaged or removed the body still feels the limb as if it was still intact. And because this was a dream, a meaningful dream, a bond which could never be severed had begun between Anjali's mom and I. We don't share the same spiritual beliefs, but we both feel the girls are in a better place.
The harness of sadness was loose and I began writing again; it was a kind of freedom which I had not experienced in a long time. I do strongly believe our spirit speaks truth in dreams.
This is a little writing practice. Get the mind going...while I hear thunder and lightening outside...and for those of you who know me, a true story. - E. Stelling, 2011
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Beautiful Silence
July 14th is the anniversary of Anelisa's passing. 365DaysXTen is here, and the book I am writing will be soon. I am working on more and more poetry in my spare time.
I have to say that I am better and better every passing day- my weight is falling off with my two hours in the gym and pool each day cross training. Brian rocks. He just does. I could not have asked for a cooler trainer.
I could not ask for a cooler life with friends like you around me.
My path did not go as I planned, but I was right about one thing- stay true to what you believe, work hard, love others, never complain, and do the best you can do.
There is only one regret in life for me, and that is you will never know what a wonderful person Anelisa was, except she was my mini me, only more beautiful.
Ane, as we called her was a good artist for her age and mentality. She got beyond the fifth grade when I home schooled her, as they predicted she would never be able to do anything other than handicapped type of work outside of the house, but she wanted to work for a vetrinarian. She loved animals, so I knew someone would have given her a job. Like her mom, she would have dabbled in her drawings, stitching, and other artistic endeavors. Ane even asked to help me make spaghetti and meatballs before she passed. She hated cooking before that, and only wanted mac n cheese from a box. You know where I stand on that one.
Anelisa we all miss you. Hope there are plenty of cats in heaven for ya to play with!
-Above is one of a series of self portraits she did on her own one weekend. I have this hanging up downstairs, and it is referenced in a poem I wrote recently.
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