Selfie win!
As I watch her sleeping here next to me, I realize she is getting more gray in her face. In just these few months, her muzzle has almost become fully white. Even her eyelashes have changed to white to the point they contrast against her closed eyes. I am going to hope that those white hairs come from enjoying life. I do like to think that it has been good for her - coming to live here. I still think of Ali. I still miss her so much. At times, like at night, when Tess is under the blankets and we are sleeping, she will start to crawl out from getting warm and it stirs me. For just a moment in that space between asleep and awake, I think it is going to be Ali coming out from underneath. Talk about being happy and sad at the same time. Happy to see Tess, sad it is not Ali. I often wonder if my heart will ever stop aching over her loss.
I had this dream the other night (and we all know how weird my dreams can be) and there was a dog who was "Ali" and yet it really wasn't Ali, it was a little yappy dog. Kind of looked more like Buttercup (Ali's chihuahua "sister") yet dreams are weird like that. Actually, the dog's name kept changing through the dream. Anyways, at one point in the dream, she got killed (and we are not going to go into details there) and so for the remainder of this dream I was walking around with her lifeless body in my arms. I know, I know, don't blame me, I can't control my subconscious.
Now, the dream itself was all messed up anyways because there a few of us together who were trying to get out of a location and everywhere we turned it was like a dead end or there were people threatening us (yes, while I carrying around my dead dog) and we just could not seem to find our way to safety. Finally, we ended up in this place that was almost like a small reception hall and the people there were all "you're safe here" kind of thing (yup, Freud would love to tackle my dreams).
So there we are, realizing it is all going to be ok, me holding my dead dog, and in walks my grandfather. This wasn't some random guy that in the dream was playing the role of my grandfather, no, it was my grandfather, just like I remembered him, the last time I saw him, 30 years ago. I have written about my grandfather. He was the only stable father figure in my life and when he took ill and eventually passed, I never got to say goodbye. My grandmother who I dearly loved just as much would pass 10 years later while I was in Argentina, not allowing me to say goodbye to her either. There is still a part of me that feels a little ripped off in that area.
So, back to the weird dream. I am not sure if I have ever dreamed of my grandfather since his passing, not this vivid at least. He came up to me, looked in my arms, and told me he knew a perfect place for her (the dog, whose name had changed once again), and I just started crying (in the dream), like that level of crying that I continue to desire in real life. That's a new one too, I don't dream of crying. No, I'm just as willful in my dreams as in reality. Yup, my grandfather, "my dead dog", and my desired-in-real-life emotional breakdown. Do not think that doesn't leave you a little weary emotionally when wake up.
I would like to tell you there was a point to sharing all of this, and there really isn't. Just the randomness that is my mind. Maybe it is some avoidance, not want to really sit and think about the emotions and feeling that keep swirling around me. Sometimes I don't want to go there alone, and so I choose not to go there at all. What's so different about that? Well, at least now I will actually go there eventually. It is like when Chris was explaining in class the other night about distress tolerance/pushing away. Sometimes you just have to put it in a box on the shelf. The thing is though, you do have to take the box down and deal with what is inside of it. At least I am starting to take my boxes off the shelves now.
I'm tired tonight. I am tired across the board and that is ok because I have experienced a lot of emotions in the past 24 hours. Still hoping to reach that good cry....wait, what was it referred to in class last night.....the "ugly cry" to which I don't care what it is, I will just embrace the fact of letting go of some pain and emotions. While driving today I looked and and said to God, "Um, think we can work on that crying thing soon? You know, a healthy way to dump some of this emotional baggage I can't seem to get rid of??" I know He hears me and I also know, that if I am ever allowed to have that good emotion-releasing cry, that it will be in His time, not mine. I hope it is not on my death bed, what would be the point of that??? The plan is, good emotional cry, pick self up, go become awesome and live and do really amazing things. Good emotional cry and then die?? Yah, such a waste of a desired opportunity there.
Love wearing hats. Aside from work and church, I am almost always wearing a hat. I tell people it makes me think better. Now I have a new hat to break in. I remember the first time I saw Sister Woodward after she had been transferred. I pulled up in my car with my hat on and she just started laughing. "You're still wearing that thing?" she teased me, mainly because it was one of my Eagles hats. Yup, I'm a hat girl and I am proud of it.
Ok, it's bedtime.....well, couch time. Tomorrow. Tomorrow night won't be so late and I can wash sheets and make the bed. It is good that my cheap couch doesn't sleep like a cheap couch, it's actually kind of comfortable. Tess is not overly impressed by it, and I just smile at her and say, "and why are we sleeping out here???" Ah, yes, to bring it full circle, I am blessed to have her. I do love her and I do miss Ali and how lucky I will be in the next life to have them both with me.