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Dream Of My Mother
1/29/99

Last night I dreamt I was back in Florida
visiting my mother’s retirement village.
She and I were on a bus that brought the residents to many activities.
We watched her neighbors jog to the clubhouse, walk to the pool,
run to the theater, or to stroll to the coffee house.
And we both thought
we don’t need those things.
we were happy leaning on each other’s arm, our heads together
as chatty as Viennese friends in their living room.

Then the dream changed.
I was hugging my mother bawling like a baby.
I wanted to hold forever
those tender feelings of a daughter in a child’s needy fingers;
to feel her soft and fuzzy cheek against my cheek,
or feel my hot tears of anger and disappointment
fall upon her comforting shoulder,
or feel the silk of her auburn hair
against my sobbing brow, as I did when I was sixteen, or thirty-two,
to hear her assure me again
with her ironic laughter
that I can still succeed, or that I will have many more lovers,
and yes I still have much to offer my overwhelming world.

Suddenly I felt cold plastic fingers poking my cheek.
I was embracing a naked baby doll.
I wailed but my cry had no sound.
Grief stuck in my throat.
The walls of my heart throbbed loudly
but I realized, with dry eyes,
I could not summon the child in me to have a voice;
my soul dominated my body consciousness.
I viewed the arteries of my heart as narrow alleys, too tiny for the ocean of love,
I viewed my memories as a treasure chest, with no room for self-pity,
I viewed my body as one of many, a carrier of a greater love.
I knew my mother and I were only evidences of this great love
that our understanding and affections for others in our lives
was part of the One parent.
There was no separation.
I could not grieve, knowing, she and I would never be separated.
Only the child of the ego, my tiny personality
would try to convince me that I was alone.
I sat up in bed awake, relieved.
My mother’s time to leave has not yet come.
I embrace the precious joy of our short times together.
I nod with compassion at the child within who would weep.
But I know her parents will greet her, and I again will meet her.
I vowed never to allow erroneous grief to keep her from the joy of Divine Mother.

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" cultur - alism isnt a hate crime yet . i win, moderators.. he he
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i had a dream.
emjo's boyfriend lassoed what turned out to be a big pi**ed off grizzly and her and i jumped on ike and hauled b*lls southward. we stopped in central kentucky cause anything south of that people talk funny and thumb their chests too much.. they wanna buy ye and sell ye. it makes me uneasy..
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And marriage the alarm clock
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Life is but a dream...
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Few parents teach/prepare their offspring for the grave and heavy task of parenting. Many go into marriage romantically without knowledge and planning, using it as a vehicle to escape the dysfunctional home life. They end up creating a similar or worst condition in the process of unplanned "home" making. Most children grow up with deep mental scars, and sometimes physical ones too. It seems that no one has answers to life that makes a person a whole being. The more doctors, psychiatrists and psychologists, the more diseases of body and mind increase. For me, only in God's Word I found solace for wholeness. My hatred for any person scarred me more than the actual deeds done to me. Praying for strength to love my neighbour as I love myself, and a willingness to let Christ be my consolation and wisdom, made way for the Lord to bring about healing to my soul. I really wish for all caregivers and humanity in general to discover why the Manual can bring about healing wholly, for the Creator knows what He created, and what is necessary to heal and maintain this creation. Be blessed, my fellow caregivers.
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i have my mothers id card on my bulletin board. the pic was taken 4-1/2 years ago when she'd had a manic episode and the subsequent 4 months of rapid cycling. im going to get rid of the pic. id rather remember her for the good meals we had together and the times we had a good wry laugh with each other. the pic bothers me. it shows emotional pain bordering on insanity. ive been trying to exxonerate my dad for many years but its not happening. he had some kind of mental discrepancy that caused him to laugh uproarously at the pain of others . he was a d**khead and i dont have to make excuses for him. i think he was the source of the depression in our household. i went in the army at 17 and got myself half a world away from him . when i came home at 20 i had to listen to some sick drivel about the prodigal son. WTH ? i didnt leave with my portion of his wealth. i didnt return broken and on bended knee. the man was sick , delusional , closedminded and ignorant. i wrote a hymn about him.
hymmmn ,
hymmmn ,
f**k himmmm..

hehe
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