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Dreams Do Tell~


I had a dream last night that stuck with me all day. 

A friend and I were driving somewhere--she was a photo friend of mine—Lisa R—who moved away several years ago.

 
She was driving and when she slowed down to turn into wherever we were going—a zoo? I yelled, "Stop, because LOOK! There’s an owl!"  A barn owl with a snowy owl’s body—so normal in a dream. 
I was so excited, until I realized I didn’t have my camera... even though the sole purpose of our trip was picture taking.

We got out of the car, and I watched Lisa take pictures. I pulled out my iPhone to at least capture something, but people kept bumping into me and stepping in my way. And when I COULD see the owl clearly enough to snap a picture, the sun was like a fireball behind him and he was only a black shadow on my iPhone screen.

I cried a little in frustration, but stuffed the feeling down. I told Lisa I was so glad she had her camera and was able to get good pix.

But then I said, “Who am I kidding? I’m so mad!” And I let out a deep, long, angry bellow. A dam let loose and the flood waters roared. I felt better...
 ....

When I’m asked these days, since Bruce’s cancer diagnosis, how I’m doing, I always answer, “We're fine.”  It wasn’t until Bruce was diagnosed with cancer that I referred to myself as “we.” It just happened. I follow his lead. He tells me he’s fine. He’s not worried or anxious; he’s taking one day at a time. 

So I am too.

At least I THOUGHT I was until I had the dream. But the dream showed me how sad I am, and how frustrated at having no control. And that I’m just plain angry!

I have no other public face but “fine.” 

But my dream told me the truth.

Cancer is NOT fine!
 
"When someone has cancer, the whole family and everyone who loves them does too." ~ Terri Clark

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Comments

MariannM said…
You are so right, Cancer is never fine. It's never ok. It sneaks into your life uninvited and begins it's destruction. You fight, you pray, some days you cry.
What do you do? You find new courage and strength. You learn what is important. You find the friends and family who are ready to laugh, to cry and hold you up. You find new purpose.
Your life is is no longer measured by birthdays but measured by when you were told this beast cancer entered your life. You say things like "before or after I, he or she got cancer".
It is never fine, it is never ok.
August 6, 2015 at 7:25 PM
Ruth L.~ said…
Mariann, Your comment means a lot to me. I know it came from much experience and from a big heart. Hugs!
August 6, 2015 at 8:52 PM
Unknown said…
You are amazing!
August 7, 2015 at 1:39 AM
Unknown said…
What life has taught me -- I'm a slow learner -- is that I can be mad, sad, frustrated, irritated, worried, harried, depressed or obsessed, and I can still say "We're fine."

Why not?

There's grace in stoicism and perseverance and optimism, even while you recognize that life hurts sometimes.

I've been quietly following Bruce's journey, and your writing about it, and I hope you know that I -- and all who know you -- are releasing a whole lot of prayers for you both.
August 7, 2015 at 10:33 AM
Ruth L.~ said…
So appreciate the comments. Gary, I'm glad that IWW connected us...and that the connection remains despite the fact that I've drifted out of the writing realm a little. A lot, actually!

I guess we are all fine...even when we're not, huh?
August 8, 2015 at 10:27 AM
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