Worse than things going bump in the night....

Image courtesy of http://www.ceviu.com.br

I’ve been putting off this subject post for a long time now, seeing as how nightmares are a rather personal thing.  I feel that it is somewhat appropriate though that I post this today, seeing as this is my youngest sister Lucie’s birthday. 

Lucie is a fan of horror movies and I am not.  Luckily we have enough in common to compensate for this when we get together and want to watch something.  There are times, however, that she asks for something horror themed and I know that I am in for that creepy feeling as I walk to my car to head for home.  

You see, Lucie’s taste in horror is more along the lines of demons, ghosties and human possession rather than your average serial killer chopping up hitchhikers type of fare.  This is a bother for me in that I truly believe that there is more out there than what is easily seen, and I do believe that you can invite the wrong sort of feeling into your home when you embrace that kind of thing.

But I digress.  I wasn’t actually going to speak about horror movies today.

You would think that with my aversion to horror flicks that my nightmares would be tinted with ghouls and menacing figures, but most often they are not.  I rarely have nightmares, but when I do they are things that linger long afterwards.  You see my nightmares are of loss: the loss of my family, the loss of my friends… the loss of the people that matter most to me.

I know people will probably think heaps about my psyche and about how I have abandonment issues or some such garbage (I firmly do not believe in dream interpretation).  Rather, I believe it is because my family means everything to me, and it is precious.  It is something that I would fight to protect, so a dream where I am helpless to do anything is truly the worst horror that I can come up with.

Or so I thought...

So what does this have to do with my sister?  Well, I was 20 when she was born.  I watched my mom (who was in her 40’s at the time) struggle with health issues related to the pregnancy.  Mom had already lost a child in a previous pregnancy and there was of course that worry added to everything else.  The worst nightmares I ever had were during this period of time and one still haunts me even now, decades later.

In the dream I am faced by my mother and she is accusing me.  I am sobbing and trying in vain to apologize and find myself saying “it was an accident”.  In the dream I am responsible for the death of my brother, the child that in real life was stillborn (I won’t go into details because it isn’t important and also because it is very disturbing), but it was a highly detailed dream that carried over into the waking world, for when I awoke I was filled with the horror that I had actually committed murder.  

Needless to say I was up for the rest of the night….

I still find myself waking on occasion shaking and crying and filled with a conviction that I truly have killed someone; a feeling so real that I have to get up and walk away from the bed.  It takes time for reality to sink back in and allow me to calm down and reassure myself that it was only a dream and that I am not some horrible monster who has carelessly destroyed the life of an innocent baby and ripped a family apart in grief.

I have a good idea of what triggered this dream (something quite innocent actually) but it is something that I wish I could lose. To be haunted by something that has never happened is a terrible feeling. The fact that it has morphed over the years into something I wake up from only to find that I am still being accused (and realize upon waking for real that I only dreamt I had awoken) is just one more cruel twist of the knife.

Who knows, maybe it has served to make me a little more cautious than I would have been, but I can’t help but wonder if my mind could have come up with a nicer way of going about it.

Something involving prancing pastel ponies and orchards full of candy corn trees perhaps?  

The Magic of Snow

I awake to a ballet on a stage of white: forms leaping and twirling in their graceful dance upon drifts of air. Downy flakes drift from the sky, growing heavy under a warmth that threatens to transform their crystalline bodies into something infinitely more liquid.

I come out and pause a moment in reflection of snowflakes once captured on my tongue.  A random thought of tasting one again comes and passes as I move to take shelter in  my car, shaking the stowaway flakes from my hair and watching as they melt before they can hit the floor.

I drive; a reluctant participant in this impromptu third act on the stage of winter, and I wonder when did I stumble from childhood into this person I have become.

I have heard the sledders at night on the hill; their shrieks and laughter carry over the hush of snow, but I do not think to join them.  I think only of the warmth of my four walls and blankets of wool rather than the chilly white I once plunged into making angels of snow upon the lawn. I have grown cautious where once I would have roamed unfettered by the thought of wet socks and a runny nose.

When did I let go of childish adventures I wonder.  When did I trade youthful exuberance for adult restraint?
Did it pass while I slept?  Was it wished away with the blowing out of candles on a birthday long past? Or is it the result of some changeling being left in my place while I and those around me failed to notice.

I may still dream, but I have forgotten how to play, and find myself the poorer in soul for it.

I pull up to work, my driving done for the moment.  I look up at the flakes still swirling down and smile as they dance around as if enticing me to join them.  I hesitate a moment before thrusting my arms out and twirling; I open my mouth and sample the first snowflake in what seems a lifetime.  Its chill on the tongue passes quickly, but it tastes as sweet as they did long ago.

I lose myself for that moment and simply thrill at the scent of snow.

A passing car honks, bringing me from my play I allow myself a few more twirls before gathering up my things and making my way indoors.

Maybe I am not as lost as I thought after all.

Bonus!  As this blog is taken from word inspirations written by my brother, I thought I would share his own little thought on winter in here.

Ah, words

I stumbled across this poem/rambling thing I wrote back in 2009 as a challenge to one of Jason's posts.  He had a long list of words and asked people to comment with their own bit of whimsy based off of the things he had listed... the only rule was that you couldn't use a word if someone else had already chosen it.

Its silly, but I still like what I wrote, so I thought I would include it here, seeing as how it uses one of the words I've drawn already (muffled).  The words in all caps are ones from his list....  hope you enjoy.  You can find the original challenge here


I stood PARALYSED in the AUTUMN FOREST as a BUTTERFLY CRISS CROSSED my path. His WILD SHIMMERING wings and WILLOWY smile were nothing compared to the BREATHTAKING DANCE he performed in the air before me. A MUSICAL rustling of leaves overhead played in accompanyment, and my eyes SHINING BRIGHTLY drank in his ASTONISHING beauty BELOW AND BENEATH the SHADOWY evening sky. I gazed for what seemed ages until a puff of wind sent him drifting off INTO THE DARKNESS onto paths unknown. The song grew MUFFLED in my ears, leaving me in VAST silence, WONDERING if I would ever find such MAGIC again.

We Enter At The Close

The hills have been plowed under;
 rich, chocolate soil thick as velvet exposed to the warmth of the sun.
I climb down and wrap myself in its deep comfort.

I drink the dew;
the taste of spiderwebs and old leaves crisp on my tongue,
like an aged cider of the fall's dwindling days.

Content, I snuggle beneath the loamy layers
 and listen for the deep thump thump thump of nature's heartbeat,
slowing for its season of rest.

Together we await our rebirth,
watching as fireflies dance their last amongst the stars;
ancient mariners adrift in the sea of approaching twilight

With the spring you will find us,
green, growing, stretching towards the heavens
with nothing but hope and possibilities before us.

image courtesy of lovethispic.com

Multiple Definitions - Muffled

I love the English language and its ability to have completely different interpretations of the exact same word;  interpretations that I've decided could use a little illustrating.  

Definition 1: to wrap or pad in order to deaden sound

Definition 2: to cover for protection or secrecy

Definition 3: to wrap for warmth

I don't know about you, but this morning I am all for definition #3! 

Serious thanks to my husband, Richard, who patiently posed for these this morning out in the chilly autumnal air!  Honey, I think you've earned that warm cup of cocoa...  

Hurricane

I lie there gazing into a sky so blue its blinding
The waves roll gently, lulling, as if to rock me to sleep
I am weary and find myself grateful for this moment of peace

I look to the horizon and see the darkness that is marching towards me
I am in the eye of the storm, and I know that I soon must fight again or drown
I cannot withdraw... so I will persevere

The Short But Sweet Reign of Daisy Marsden

Daisy was a destined to be Queen.... she knew that.  Knew it in every fiber of her being.  After all, she had already been one of the local Princess for three years running, and now, with the reigning Queen Dinty Cartwright finally aged out, it was her time to shine.

Standing in front of the full-length mirror (the 6' mirror loomed over her but that was to be expected with a 5-year old), she brushed her hands softly down the front of her blue silk dress, and smiled at what she saw.  Golden hair in perfect curls tumbled onto her shoulders, and her eyelashes were the longest of any girl in the running this year.  Her dress had layers of underskirts that made her dress poof out just so, and the skirt had sparkles in a swirling design that made it practically shimmer in the sunlight.  There was a string of pearls around her neck, and even a stone that twinkled like pink and blue fire on one little finger.

Nodding to her reflection in approval, she turned from her reflection, listening for the sweet hiss of her dress brushing against the underskirts.

Heaven.

Walking carefully down the hall to the kitchen, she paused, took a breath and then calmly walked in.

Her father, sitting at the front table looked up and smiled as she entered the room.  "Ah, I am fortunate to be visited by her Grace, our future Queen", he laughed.  Leaning over, he kissed her tenderly on the cheek; he had not taken the time to shave yet, and it tickled.  Daisy giggled, and then stood back, holding her skirts wide.

"How do I look Papa?" she asked, and slowly spun in a circle in order to make her skirts flare even wider.

Her father's smile didn't fade, but he took in the girl and, once again, he wished her could do more for her. Her little dress, once someone's Cinderella costume, had been carefully drawn on with glitter glue, but he could see smears where it hadn't fully dried before it had been moved.  He noted the cheap string of imitation pearls, and the ring... he had no idea where Daisy had found it, but it appeared to be no more than a cheap piece of costume jewelry.

Daisy's usually straight hair had been worked over with a curling iron by her older sister, but nature was already making those curls droop and, no doubt, by the time they arrived at the competition, they would be straight again.  Her excitement, however, could not be contained, and it only heightened the sparkle in her eyes.

"Let me go get cleaned up", he chuckled.  "A vision such as you can hardly be seen with me all scruffy.  What will people think?"

Daisy giggled again, allowed herself one more spin, and then carefully sat down, brushing her skirts with pudgy fingers.

Dave's girls were the two best things he had going for him, and there was nothing he wouldn't do for either of them... or at least try to.  While there may not have been enough money for frivolities, at least the mortgage was paid on time and there was always food on the table.  Still, he mused, as he walked to the bathroom and pulled out his razor, it would be nice to have a little extra for things like pretty dresses.  Thankfully his girls seemed to have a good take on what was important, and didn't seem to notice if they were lacking some of the things other kids took for granted.

He knew Daisy hoped to be crowned Queen this year, and while she had a good chance, seeing as how there were only a couple of girls who actually cared to enter this small-town contest, he knew that there was also every chance that someone else would get that coveted crown.

In short time they were all ready.  Missy, as usual, had her nose in a book, and she graciously offered her little sister the chance to ride shotgun in the beat-up truck.  Daisy paused for a moment and then declined; as it was, with the air conditioner working only sporadically, sitting in the middle offered the best protection for her curls.  Missy smiled in amusement... a smile so like her mother's that Dave found himself once again being so grateful for these two little miracles that held him together.  He reached out, lifted Daisy gently to keep from wrinkling her skirts, and set her on the bench seat.  Missy, nearly 8, was able to hop in on her own, not even lifting her eyes from the story that she was reading.

It was a short drive to the park where the factory's annual summer picnic was being held.  In no time at all Daisy found herself on stage with four other little girls, all dressed in their royal best.  Tiny Maddie Comstock, only four, was tottering around in what appeared to be her older sister's high heels in order to appear as tall as the older girls, and she was doing a pretty good job of it; even if she couldn't lift her feet up to walk, but rather slid her way across the pavement like she was roller skating.  Her older sister followed along, grimacing at every scrape her shoes made on the asphalt, until, finally, she scooped her sister up with one arm, snagged the shoes with the other hand and carried her sister the rest of the way.  Apparently, some sacrifices were just not to be made when it came to footwear.

Things were about to get underway when a girl Daisy had never seen before quietly made her way to the stage.  Appearing to be her age, this little girl seemed to be nervous about being in front of the crowd, and was determinedly keeping her eyes on the ground before her.  Daisy couldn't see her face at all, but it was obvious this girl was new as no one in the area had flaming red curls.  In fact, Daisy could hardly take her eyes off the girl and failed to notice the concern now registering on the judges faces.  As the girl came to a hesitant stop next to her, Daisy put on an even bigger smile and whispered, "Hi, I'm Daisy."

The girl looked up, timidity momentarily forgotten as her blue eyes met Daisy's brown ones.  A smile crossed her face as she whispered back, "I'm Meredith".  With that, Meredith's gaze went to the crowds and she quickly put her head down again.  Daisy's heart went out to the girl and, impulsively she reached out a hand and squeezed Meredith's hand.  Meredith, squeezing back, did not look up, but she did not let go either.

It seemed to only take a few minutes for the judges to come to a determination, and then Mr Schultz, the factory owner, was calling Dinty to the stage.  The former Queen marched forward, her cheap plastic crown shimmering like burnished gold in the sunlight, and the paste gems flashed shades of red, green and sapphire blue as Dinty turned to the girls clustered on stage and wished them luck.  Daisy felt herself coveting that glorious crown, forgetting everything, including her new friend in the moment.  It will be mine, it will be mine, she repeated to herself, over and over.

Suddenly Meredith was pushing her forward. "They called your name", she whispered, and Daisy found herself stumbling forward so that Dinty could place a crown on her head.

A Queen's crown.

Daisy's hand reached up to touch that coveted crown, hardly believing it was now on her head, as the assembled parents applauded.  Turning to smile at Meredith, Daisy was dismayed to see that all of her friends wore the smaller, silver princess crowns.... all except for Meredith.  The girl was looking straight at Daisy, applauding her new-found friend, but apparently there had not been enough crowns to go around.  Daisy had not known that could happen.  The few years she herself had participated every girl had received a crown.

Without a pause she walked straight over to Meredith, plucked her crown from her head and whispered, "this belongs to you", and rested it on Meredith's head.

Meredith looked surprised, and tentatively reached up as if to be sure that the crown was really there.  "But they gave it to you", she whispered.

"And now I give it to you", was Daisy's simple reply.  With that she clasped Meredith's hand in hers and pulled the girl to the front of the stage.  Dinty hesitated a moment, glancing at the judges for direction before walking up and offering Daisy her own crown, but Daisy shook her head.  Dinty shrugged, not really understanding, but she quietly walked back to her spot on the stage, happy that she didn't have to surrender her own crown after all.

Daisy grinned as Meredith impulsively threw her arms around her and hugged her tight. So she didn't have a crown, and so what if she wasn't Queen this year; she knew she had done the right thing for Meredith. The girl was now smiling at the crowd, shyness forgotten.

 Mr Schultz looked astounded, but recovered quickly enough and announced to everyone attending, "I present to you this year's Schultz Manufactoring Pre-School Royalty."  Turning, he smiled at Daisy and then added, "Daisy Marsden you stay up here as well.  You are just as much a part of this royalty as anyone else."

With that he stepped back and the girls all came forward to the edge of the stage, each waving back to the audience.  Five crowns, but six little arms waving under the bright July sun.