In my little allotted space in the world . . .
It seems like it’s been many weeks of waiting . . . it has been one week, I believe. Many, including myself, just want whatever is going to happen to happen so we can begin to recover, rebuilt and work on getting back to normalcy here. The waiting, the fear building up, then subsiding slightly by some bit of news, is what drives me crazy.
What started out as going up the east coast, then the middle of the state, now seems to have chosen the west coast and maybe even a little west in the water. It still has not turned yet, so there is no certainly of where it will go when it leaves Cuba. Maybe we’ll know by 8 p.m. tonight. One thing seems to be pretty sure and that is by Sunday morning/afternoon/early evening, the waiting for us will be over and we will be deep in whatever fate has in store for us.
Thursday I made it to bed by 4 a.m. Exhausted, I slept until almost 10 a.m. No dreams whatsoever. Friday (last night) I went to bed at 3:30 a.m., exhausted again and fell instantly asleep and slept soundly until 8 a.m. At least I’m not laying in bed tossing and turning all night, as I often do. Before I woke up this morning, I had a dream about my Mom. It was one of those dreams that you just know is real, you think you are awake.
I dreamed that I got up this morning and walked out to the front living room and looked out the window and there she was, standing among all the plants, removing things from the front mound. She had things clutched close to her chest and was walking into the open garage door to put them in there for safe keeping. She had on shorts and a kind of halter top, things she wore when she was young and worked out in the vegetable garden we had growing up. Her top was navy blue and white polka dots, one I remember from an old picture of her.
I hadn't realized until this morning that the anniversary of her death is tomorrow. 9/10/2012.
She visited me once before in one of those real life dreams the day before my brother John died in 2004.
Who knows what is real. . . but I truly believe she was trying to tell me she is close, watching over me.
I decided this morning to walk around the house taking some pictures of things of monetary value for possible insurance purposes. I wandered outside and came across one of my sister’s little ceramic faces she gave me years ago that I put in one of my pots. I started to cry when I saw it. Emotions are high, I guess, and simple little things like this bring feelings right straight to the surface.
My heartfelt thanks to everyone for their thoughts and prayers. Every single thing you write means more than words can say. Through all the miles, near and far, I know I am not alone.
Signing off for now . . .
What started out as going up the east coast, then the middle of the state, now seems to have chosen the west coast and maybe even a little west in the water. It still has not turned yet, so there is no certainly of where it will go when it leaves Cuba. Maybe we’ll know by 8 p.m. tonight. One thing seems to be pretty sure and that is by Sunday morning/afternoon/early evening, the waiting for us will be over and we will be deep in whatever fate has in store for us.
Thursday I made it to bed by 4 a.m. Exhausted, I slept until almost 10 a.m. No dreams whatsoever. Friday (last night) I went to bed at 3:30 a.m., exhausted again and fell instantly asleep and slept soundly until 8 a.m. At least I’m not laying in bed tossing and turning all night, as I often do. Before I woke up this morning, I had a dream about my Mom. It was one of those dreams that you just know is real, you think you are awake.
I dreamed that I got up this morning and walked out to the front living room and looked out the window and there she was, standing among all the plants, removing things from the front mound. She had things clutched close to her chest and was walking into the open garage door to put them in there for safe keeping. She had on shorts and a kind of halter top, things she wore when she was young and worked out in the vegetable garden we had growing up. Her top was navy blue and white polka dots, one I remember from an old picture of her.
I hadn't realized until this morning that the anniversary of her death is tomorrow. 9/10/2012.
She visited me once before in one of those real life dreams the day before my brother John died in 2004.
Who knows what is real. . . but I truly believe she was trying to tell me she is close, watching over me.
I decided this morning to walk around the house taking some pictures of things of monetary value for possible insurance purposes. I wandered outside and came across one of my sister’s little ceramic faces she gave me years ago that I put in one of my pots. I started to cry when I saw it. Emotions are high, I guess, and simple little things like this bring feelings right straight to the surface.
My heartfelt thanks to everyone for their thoughts and prayers. Every single thing you write means more than words can say. Through all the miles, near and far, I know I am not alone.
Signing off for now . . .