Monday, October 15, 2012

A dream - Grief

It was like it used to be back in the fur days, when Matt and Mom and Ed and myself were all working together.  Chey was working with us too, and we were all stationed on an island, in a similar situation as to the way it was in Ketchikan, except we were all billeted in barracks.  As I was trying to sleep one night, I heard Leah's voice outside, near the door.  I woke up fully and listened, and heard that she was talking to Nick.  I discovered that they had both come to the island to work.  As I lay there I grew more and more anxious as I listened to them talk.  Their conversation became an argument, and at this point I decided that I didn't want to be near their situation, so I got up and got dressed for a walk.  As I was stepping out the door, Nick walked off quickly and Leah looked after him with desperation on her face.  She looked at me and smiled this sad smile, and stepped towards me.  I said to her, "I can't do this again.  Do you know how that makes me feel, when you come to me for comfort in your heartache, knowing that you're in love with him, that your heart belongs to him?  It feels like your hand is inside my chest, squeezing my heart and crushing it down to nothing."  I walked away from her.

The next day, mom and Ed and Matt and Chey and myself were walking to work together.  Our path cut across the island through some very pretty woods, kind of like the path in Michigan on Mackinac Island.  As we walked, I got weaker and weaker as my grief increased, and I began to stumble.  Mom was there beside me, holding me up and helping me as I hobbled forward.  Ed and Matt and Chey were way ahead of us, and finally we were so far behind that we were alone.  We kept going though, and I wept silently.  We finally got the the place were I was supposed to work, and mom let go of me and stood there looking at me.  She asked if I was going to be alright, and at that point I collapsed to the ground and began crying uncontrollably.  It was all back again, the old grief I felt when Leah left, just as sharp and clear and ubiquitous as it had been back when it was fresh.  I sort of stepped outside of myself for a moment and saw myself crying, and as I pictured myself there in my sadness, I thought that there would never ever be enough tears to cry it all away.  I lay on the ground and curled up in a fetal position and cried, "Mama, mama."  She came over to me and lay there with me and held me.