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Dream journeys revisited
braiding
nhwaterspirit
After many months I was looked back at my journal entry "dream journeys" from last January.  It is quite amazing - over the year I did take care of Jim, to the best of my ability, while being constantly called to my mother. As in the dream, I was conflicted and pulled to both, with different voices telling me what to do. And as in the dream, help came when I asked for it, from my sisters and brother, my daughter, many friends from my neighborhood, work and Quaker community.

What is even more amazing; I got compassion and understanding from car mechanics, people standing in line at the grocery, the tough-looking cashier at a gas station - and many more. I feel that I can't express the gratitude really needed for all these gifts.

Now Jim is in his last week of almost a year of cancer treatment - large pink chemotherapy pills every morning and night. The end is in sight, and he is recovering from the disease and the treatment. My mother has been in hospice care for a month, and is declining rapidly. She moves from the bed to a couch & back, but more and more just stays in bed, sleeping a good deal.

Two weeks ago we moved her to my sister Terri's new house, which has a very beautiful setting on a small lake, right on the water. We can look out to bright autumn leaves over  traces of white, from an early snowfall. At night the moonlight on the water is lovely, and it's very quiet. There are pine trees near the house, but not too many - one can still see the stars.

So now we are just waiting for her life to run its course, taking one day, one moment at a time. Terri says 'I'm just playing it by ear.. sometime she calls me by someone else's name, but I think she knows who I am.."

I can't help hoping that she will just fall asleep, like falling gladly into the water, (no struggle, no pain) and sleep her way into death. My mother has lived 93 years in this world. She was never able to say this, but I think she is ready to go.

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Dylan Thomas cried out -

Do not go gentle into that dark night
Rage, rage at the dying of the light....

I prefer to think we can go gentle into a bright, bright light - maybe something like the sun or a nebula which captures all the colors and dusts of the universe.

Lovely, Denise. You are lovely, too.


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