Dreamtime loss
Last night I had a dream about sharing grief. I didn’t know it then. I was just trying to make something happen, and hitting obstacles. When I woke up crying, it began to become clear what was working through me. Later today, I happened on a beautiful tribute of shared grief, to help me understand.
In the dream, I am in the childhood home of a childhood friend. I am adult, out of place in the old house, shining wood, spacious and shot through with yellow sunlight. It’s like I have teleported here. We have to get out before someone finds us. I am with someone very dear to me. And we have to get out so we can continue our conversation and get through this, this heavy heaviness.
He is reticent to leave but he doesn’t tell me that. Instead he makes jokes, and when my phone breaks because I have dropped it on the floor, he kicks the pieces apart so that it will take longer to pick them up. He doesn’t realize the importance of getting out of this house. It belongs to other people and they don’t know we are here. We are just borrowing it, I am just coming to get him. But he keeps dragging his feet.
Opening
My anger flares. Impotence against what is bigger and out of my control, it melts at once into tears. He has lost his wife, his daughter. In a nasty divorce. He cannot defend himself. He doesn’t have the skills or the resources to handle either the legal battle or the emotional one. His daughter is learning that he is a bad man, when in reality, he is crippled with hopelessness, without a map.
I am crying. He is not. And then he begins to cry. I feel bad for making him cry. For making him feel. But happy that I can help him by crying for him, sharing his loss. In my sleep, I can feel my body heaving. In my dream I ask him gently, “Why?” And in my mind I am hearing, “Why? Why? Why? Why?”
We cry together there in that sunlight. Then I wake up.
I think about the dream. In my growing up years, the family of the childhood friend to whom the house belonged lived down the street from me, until they lost their house and lived in a van. Two of the girls, my friend and her sister, lived with us for a while as a result.
We were trapped in loss that started a long time ago. The only way out was crying together.
Shared by community
This dream followed me around today, leaving me with so many questions. And then I came upon this gorgeous, loving tribute honoring a lost loved one in the food blogging community last week.
Love and blessings to Jennie Perillo, her family, and all who reached out to share the grief of her loss together, and carry the pain with love and joy.
Peanut Butter Pie for Mikey from Evolution Multimedia on Vimeo.
May joy find its way to you through sorrow.
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Thanks for reading Day 5 of “Memory to Light: 31 Days of Stories, August 11 – September 11, 2011.” It is an exercise in writing about loss, for the purpose of letting grief wake, live, and pass through the system. Grief is transformation. Story is transformation. Our world could use a some wakeful transformation right now. Take a peek at the introductory post for the full story of what we’re up to.
Join me
Consider this project an online story circle. Read a story that moves you. Write your own on your blog. Link it to the comments below, so we can read your piece. If you don’t have a blog, write your story in the comments.
Let your memories live. Let small corners of your grief breathe. Let your loss be swept into the collective experience of people sharing, witnessing, and letting be.
