Ice Dreams
...the three of us are going downtown together. My mother, myself, and a very young boy. He looks just like Brother P, but at no time is he ever called that. Mother is very excited and we decide to go ice skating at the big store rink. She recalls being a child and how thrilled she was to skate in the winter wonderlands the rinks used to be decorated as. We get to the rink and put on skates and slowly glide out onto the ice. I ask her why she stopped skating if she enjoyed it so much. Watching the elegant men and women glide by, and the family's with children huddled around them like ducklings - she slowly shakes her head and says that she just never felt that she had time. At that point, the young boy starts fussing. He's cranky with a runny nose and we decide to leave the ice.
I think that the first memory I have of Knowing that my mother ice skated came from another adult. There are overtones of disapproval in that memory so it probably was my Grandmother who related it. My mother had skated right up to a few weeks before I was born.
I only ever saw her skate once. I was around 10 and she pulled her skates out of her hope chest and set-off across the fields with me in tow. We ended up at a neighbors cow pond that was frozen over. She strapped her skates on and glided out onto the ice. Telling me to watch closely, she took a few graceful turns - gliding effortlessly. She then came back to me, taking off her skates and put them on my feet. She wrapped the long laces tightly around my ankles telling me I'd have to always tie them this tight as I had very weak ankles. As she helped me stand and get on the ice, my feet tingled in that going numb way from lack of blood flow. I wobbled a few steps and promptly fell down. She helped me up, giving me encouragement and tips. I fell down again. For the next half hour or so I fell down, she'd help me up and I'd fall down again. Eventually cold and tired, we trekked back across the field to home. She told me the skates were mine now and put them in my closet. Where they stayed. I never took them out again and I have no idea what ever happened to them.
I never saw her skate again. There might not have been much opportunity in Iowa, but when she moved back to Minnesota and enrolled both boys in hockey - she certainly would have had more than enough opportunity. Neither of the boys ever remember her skating and were surprised to find out that she knew how.
I never questioned why she didn't skate or even wonder about it. The self-centeredness of a child only caring about what affected her growing into the self-centeredness of an adult. Now when it's too late to ask, I wonder what kept a women who loved something so much that she risked her pregnancy, off the ice.
Even beyond that, I wonder what spurred the dream? I haven't dreamed of my mother since right after she passed - and I truly believe that wasn't a real dream but her telling me goodbye.
This was a dream.
A message from my subconscious.
I wonder what I'm trying to tell myself?
I think that the first memory I have of Knowing that my mother ice skated came from another adult. There are overtones of disapproval in that memory so it probably was my Grandmother who related it. My mother had skated right up to a few weeks before I was born.
I only ever saw her skate once. I was around 10 and she pulled her skates out of her hope chest and set-off across the fields with me in tow. We ended up at a neighbors cow pond that was frozen over. She strapped her skates on and glided out onto the ice. Telling me to watch closely, she took a few graceful turns - gliding effortlessly. She then came back to me, taking off her skates and put them on my feet. She wrapped the long laces tightly around my ankles telling me I'd have to always tie them this tight as I had very weak ankles. As she helped me stand and get on the ice, my feet tingled in that going numb way from lack of blood flow. I wobbled a few steps and promptly fell down. She helped me up, giving me encouragement and tips. I fell down again. For the next half hour or so I fell down, she'd help me up and I'd fall down again. Eventually cold and tired, we trekked back across the field to home. She told me the skates were mine now and put them in my closet. Where they stayed. I never took them out again and I have no idea what ever happened to them.
I never saw her skate again. There might not have been much opportunity in Iowa, but when she moved back to Minnesota and enrolled both boys in hockey - she certainly would have had more than enough opportunity. Neither of the boys ever remember her skating and were surprised to find out that she knew how.
I never questioned why she didn't skate or even wonder about it. The self-centeredness of a child only caring about what affected her growing into the self-centeredness of an adult. Now when it's too late to ask, I wonder what kept a women who loved something so much that she risked her pregnancy, off the ice.
Even beyond that, I wonder what spurred the dream? I haven't dreamed of my mother since right after she passed - and I truly believe that wasn't a real dream but her telling me goodbye.
This was a dream.
A message from my subconscious.
I wonder what I'm trying to tell myself?