Reflection

I often have dreams that I'm floating, rather than walking. In these dreams, if I want to go higher (such as if something is in my way like a house) I have to concentrate and breathe more deeply. It's not flying though, I'm floating.

When I have this dream, it's a pleasurable experience, but I try to hide it from everyone because I know it's not normal. The problem is, that as much as I try, I can't hide it and the best I can do is to do a floaty-bouncy walk, kind of like the astronauts on the moon.

I had another one of those dreams last night. I was floating away after someone told me that I was "magnificent" (ha! healthy self-esteem, anyone?)

I'd been sitting in a field of wheat reading a book, when a woman came up to me and told me she saw me from afar and asked me if I was from this planet. I told her that I was (and in the dream it seemed like a normal conversation...) and she said that she'd never seen anyone from this planet so magnificent.

Should I really be admitting this dream in public? ha ha!

I had to leave for some reason and then the floaty thing happened. I was glad that I was in a big wheat field because it made it less obvious that I was floating.

I decided to look up "floating" on some dream interpretation sites and it varies. All I know is that I feel REALLY good and light when I'm floating in these dreams, and I have these dreams a few times a month. That's good enough for me.

This interpretation is fairly universal:

To see yourself floating and enjoying this action in a dream generally bears a positive significance and relates to a general balance achieved in one's life. To calmly float in water or through air is a metaphor for acceptance, for wellbeing and peace of mind, for letting go of past problems and conflicts and the release of negative emotions and feelings buried deep down inside you, which have prevented you from achieving a general equilibrium in your life.

• I subscribe to a site called dealloco.com on my feedreader. Amazing deals to be had, and I do most of my Christmas shopping through this site.
  
  Anyway, one of the deals today was a fire escape ladder that hooks to a window. It reminded me of when I was a kid and was FREAKED OUT about "what if there's a fire?" I've always been rather literal, even as a kid. I'd hear stories in Sunday School about the Holy Ghost prompting you when something bad might happen (at least, that's how I interpreted it...) so, if I ever worried about something, I was POSITIVE that it was the Holy Ghost prompting me about [insert worry of the day here]. Worry wart. Some things never change.
  
  One of those worries was a fire. I don't remember how old I was, but it was in the house before our house in Yorba Linda (thebirthplaceofRichardMNixon) <- Factoid: I can never say the words "Yorba Linda" without following it up with "The birthplace of Richard M. Nixon".
  
  I remember my dad sitting at the edge of my bed several nights talking to me about this and then installing one of those fire ladders outside my window. Thanks, Dad, for making me feel safe.


• I've come to the conclusion, "once a mother, always a mother". You worry about your kids when they're little and you worry about your kids when they're grown. It seems to me that the problems when the kids become adults are just as worrisome- only they typically have a bigger impact. I think I'd rather have the little kid worries to worry about.


• Einstein has had a little bug the last couple of days. I started to obsess about it, so finally we took him to the vet. The conclusion was stomach flu of some sort (I'll leave this to your imagination)and allergies (swollen eyeball). I'm so used to his daily activities and schedule that little warning bells go off when he's not himself. He had a nausea shot at the vet, and he was so still last night that I kept looking over at him to make sure he was still breathing, because usually he's a bit of a monkey at night. Reminds me of when the boys were babies and they slept too long.


• We hired our landscapers to remove Old Man Winter from the gardens. We were out yesterday and came home to find six people working in the garden beds. I was giddy with excitement at seeing all this dead stuff (plants, not bodies) being hauled away out of the yard. It took them one day to accomplish what would take me WEEKS to do. I am so excited that all I have to do from now on is plant cool new plants and leave the rest to the gardeners. Squee!


• I've been immersing myself in the series, "Six Feet Under" for the past few weekends. I've seen it before and loved it. BJ hates it (of course) and says that it sounds like a big Soap Opera. He said, "Soon you'll be telling me that you're watching 'your stories'". It's kind of amazing to me how well we get along and enjoy each other's company, but our taste in movies and TV shows are so far apart, with the exception of a few. I refuse to question the reason.


• I'm going to see the cardiologist tomorrow to see about getting a monitor surgically implanted. I'm 100% for the idea because I want this fainting stuff figured out. Too many broken bones and injuries and it has to stop. I'm seeing the foot surgeon on Tuesday because my foot isn't healing AT.ALL. I'm starting to feel depression seeping in because I can't go out and do anything without my foot hurting- sometimes even more than my face. I've gained 15 lbs due to my foot (well, and coconut M&Ms), because the foot surgeon told me to get off of it as soon as it starts to hurt. That's usually about 10 minutes. Bleh. Yup, I'm feeling depressed. I guess that's not so hard to understand, given the hand I've been dealt the past couple of years, right? Thankfully, I can still see the good. Most of the time, anyway.

BJ and I rarely go out to eat, mainly because we just like being home. When we do go out to eat, it's typically breakfast. We have a place "Ma's Diner" (seriously! that's what it's called!) that we've gone to many times, but it looked really busy and there was no parking. So off we went to another hole-in-the-wall diner that I've noticed many times because it's right by the train station where I used to pick up the train to go in to work.

...the breakfast was great, by the way.

The woman that seated us and then waited on us was, I'd guess, in her 60's. She wore a LOT of makeup and had on a white silk (looking) blouse. You could tell that her appearance was important to her and I'm guessing she was quite a 'looker' back in the day.

Nothing out of the ordinary happened, at least in my opinion. For example, I didn't offer to pick up the dishes, take them back and wash them for her. But what happened when we went to leave was very out of the ordinary.

We went to the cash register to pay and she handed me an envelope that had something in it. She smiled at me, said "God bless you" and told me to not open it until we'd left the restaurant.

I did as I was told and waited until we were in the car. In the envelope was a little bracelet made of beads the color of amber, and a card that read, "Thank you for being so kind". BJ just looked at me and chuckled, saying "what *is* it about you and strangers?"

I get that sort of thing a lot and BJ is getting used to it. I'm honestly not aware that I'm doing anything extraordinarily kind, but I am 'that person' that gets hugs from the shuttle driver (happened to me twice in less than a month, by two different shuttle drivers.) I think most people would be a little weirded out by being hugged by a virtual stranger, but I take it as a compliment because I know that I've done something to touch them emotionally and that's how they expressed it back to me.

The last shuttle driver that hugged me wouldn't even let me tip him, saying that having me as a passenger brightened his day. We were only together for about an hour. I don't remember anything in particular that we talked about that would have been a big deal.

Things like this make me wonder why being treated with kindness seems so unusual to people. I act upon the belief that we should all be kind and treat everyone like we'd want to be treated, but the actions of these people make me think that this is not the norm. It's as if they're not used to someone being kind to them, which makes me sad.

Of course, being this way does get me into many situations whereby I'm cornered by someone that wants to unload on me. I guess I just have to take the bad with the good.

I'm trying to think of a place to keep that bracelet so I can look at it often, thankful that someone took the effort to let me know that I made them feel good- because that makes ME feel good.

It's such a simple thing- being nice.

Saturday I'll be flying out for the day to visit my grandmother for her 96th birthday and will finally meet my half-sister (my biological father's daughter.) We've talked on the phone a few times and she seems like a really nice person, so I know that this will not be an uncomfortable meeting. I'm looking forward to it, actually, because she's so fun to talk to. I dare say that she's even friendlier than I am. Is it possible?

Lots has happened with my grandmother since the last time I visited her. She is failing in both health and memory and is now living with one of my aunts. I'm prepared that this will be the last time I see her. She may not even know who I am, and I'm OK with that. After all, she only met me five years ago.

I suspect that after this meeting, I'll be inclined to keep in touch with my half-sister. I really hate that term, because I don't have ANY full-blooded siblings, and certainly don't refer to them as my half-brother, etc., yet I feel that calling her 'sister' would somehow dishonor the relationship I have with the siblings I grew up with.

I'll figure all of that out, I'm sure.

It's going to be a long and most likely emotional day for me. I fly out in the early morning, and fly back that night. I suspect that there will be lots of processing going on in my noggin, and for that I'm thankful for my trusty blog. In a few years, I'll look back on this part of my history and will have figured out everything by then. It'll be a nice reminder of my feelings and thoughts.

What a ride it's been, eh? It all started on Feb 23, 2005, when I both found my father and found out he was dead on the very same day. I didn't stop searching there, and am thankful for my tenacious nature. That lead to finding my grandmother, still alive at the age of 92, excited about meeting me.

When I think back over the last five years, I can hardly believe the roller-coaster of 'stuff' I've experienced. If I were to just tell my story to someone, I'm pretty sure they'd think I was embellishing because seriously? Just wow. No regrets and lots of wonder and opportunities for growth.

I suspect that 2010 is going to be a year of growth for me, which means there are both difficult and wonderful things in store. I have a feeling that this visit will go down in the 'wonderful' column.

I know I owe more Vegas stories, and they're coming, I promise!

As previously mentioned, I'm smack in the middle of Hospice training (for the fourth time, I might add.) It's been emotionally draining, to say the least. This is not to say that I'm not glad that I'm there. I had the choice to do the training again and reminded myself that I've always gotten a lot out of training each time. So far, I'm glad that I opted in.

It's nice to be back to this particular Hospice organization. It feels like home, and the staff have all been so happy to see me again; affirming to me how I truly am meant for this work. Sure, they could be just telling me nice things, but they're telling all the participants of the training about the work I've done for them. It feels good and it feels right.

Today was the exercise that is always so emotional for me. I'm too lazy to track down the post from 2004 (wow, I've been writing her a long time!), but... oh forget it. Hold on, I'll find it.....

OK, here it is.

Anyway, it's interesting to me how my choices have changed each time I've done this exercise. Typically, all of my possessions are the first to go, but I held on to our home up until the point where it came to the relationships. I've known how this exercise goes each time, but sitting in a chapel, watching other people give up their possessions, knowing that patients really ARE giving up everything- all of it is just like doing it the first time. I make an effort to be truly present when doing Hospice-related things and this exercise was no different.

It was hard for me to not think of my cousin during this exercise. We are supposed to put ourselves in the story, but I kept shifting back and forth between the two of us. The story being told was so close to her story and though I was fully aware of the things she had to give up when her journey was coming to an end, I became even more keenly aware of her loss. Independence, the ability to provide, the ability to be the mother she once was.. all the things that would devastate me to let go of.

In the end, I came back to me and thought about the relationships in my life. Just as in previous times, we were asked to visualize what it would look like after we die. Who would be there when we took our last breath. The scene in my head surprised me, to be honest. I'm going to keep that private, except to the person who was with me. I'm still trying to rationalize it in my head, quite frankly (NO! It wasn't Donny Osmond!)

I'm looking forward to what tomorrow brings (eeep, I'd best get to bed because we start bright and early, one hour away from home...). I'm also looking forward to my first assignment. That'll be Tuesday morning at 10am.

I suspect I'm going to have some interesting dreams tonight.