Tool -- Reflection

I've been having strange dreams. This is not a new thing. The other night I dreamed someone was trying to take Bella, and I shot them. In the hand. I was aware that I had a handgun, so I used it. Then suddenly I was in my own RPG, like stone walls and sliding doors that opened when I approached. It felt like I was in doom. But whenever I encountered something to shoot, I felt ineffective with the weapon. I shot only to wound, disable, and move on. When I awoke I saw the news about the douchebag who went on the killing spree at UCSB. I was horrified at the thought that I'd been dreaming such things that night. But that's the thing about dreams, you never know what will happen, and most of the time it's out of your control.

Last night I dreamed of Mom. We went shopping, and it was almost as if she weren't dead. She pulled this outfit off the rack and held it up. It was a black and white polka dotted monstrosity with lots of ruffles, "I saw it last time we were here," I had replied, dismissing the outfit at once. She called to me And I turned, and voila!, she was wearing it, though she looked ridiculous. The bottoms of it looked like old time pantaloons. She was also wearing black stilettos and a wide-brimmed black hat. We laughed together, and then it was time to go.

Suddenly we were climbing out of the car at Gramps' house. And Mom.was helping me put on my grey trench coat. And I could feel her hands on my arm and shoulder as we juggled shopping bags and purses between us. And then one of her sisters arrived and Mom called out to her and she turned and waved.

And just like that, it was over, the alarm dragging me back to wakefulness. But for what felt like an eternity in my dream I was shopping with Mom again, and felt the touch of her hands, the circle of her embrace, firm and sure and alive.

Somebody That I Used to Know -- Gotye

I leveled up in my grief this year. I spent the entire day on Monday last preparing for the evening's roller skating extravaganza. I showered and got ready like any other day, drying my hair while fighting the urge to pull a Mom and just take the scissors to it. My hair. Now that's a story in and of itself! With just enough curl to it to be annoying, and not enough to be curly, it has reached the length at which it curls around my ears and the nape of my neck. No amount of flat ironing will staunch these curls.

As a girl, I remember Mom picking up the scissors and whacking off a chunk of unruly hair. And this was usually before, or even sometimes after, a trip into town for a haircut. Got a piece of hair that just won't lay right no matter what you do? Grab the scissors, go ahead.

But, on this particular Monday, death day if only I had the inclination to remember it as such, I had things to do. Like clean the house, take a trip to the library, and worry about roller skating for the first time in over a decade.

I went through the entire day completely oblivious that it was death day (level up!). Of course, I was more worried about taking three kids roller skating later, and what that would entail, than moping around all day. Which I'd already done the previous day, anyhow.

As soon as they came in the door after school they were hugging my neck and counting down until time to leave. But first there was food to prepare, and outfits to pick out. Addison had to have shorts, for some reason, so we hunted for those while Anna chose an outfit that would glow under the blacklights at the skating rink.

Suddenly it was time to go, and soon we were strapping on rental skates at the rink. Bella and Addison each had one of my hands, and Anna had already taken off. We made our way across the carpeted area to the rink and I pulled them onto the floor. Bella's feet went different directions right away, and down she went, the weight of her suddenly  jerking me off balance. I stumbled a bit, used the toe to break and pull her back to her feet while Addison struggled toward the wall and clung to the rail. We made our way, very slowly around the rink, alternating between pulling Bella and Addison to their feet and trying not to fall myself. We were nearly the whole way.around when Bella fell and her fingers slipped from my hand and as she tried to push herself to her feet my skate rolled right over her pinky. Then she cried out, and I nearly fell over as I scooped her up and onto my hip, her skate brushing my knee. It was awkward to roller skate carrying her, she's gotten so big, and harder still to make sure Addison made it off the floor of the rink with us.

Ten minutes later we were hurrying into the bathroom, me in my skates still, and lucky enough to not have yet fallen, and Bella in her sock feet, having insisted that it was NOW that she had to go to the bathroom. In the bathroom I nearly fell over, catching myself with my fingertips against the bathroom floor. That was a close one. Back out in the lounge I discovered that Bella and Addison were just as thrilled about skating some more as I was. Which was not very. I wanted to leave, but Anna's best friend had just arrived. We turned in our skates and had snacks in the lounge while Anna skated.

It wasn't until Anna fell, scraping off the scab on her knee, and bleeding profusely, that we finally left, with only ten minutes of the event left to go. For me, I was ready, but Anna protested, even though she was pressing a wad of toilet paper against her knee. It was time to go.

At home I prepared a late dinner and spent the rest of the evening in the same blissfully ignorant state in which I had spent the entire day. It wasn't until the next day, when I checked my email, that I realized that I hadn't spent death day  mourning. It was a great feeling, really. Like grief is loosening it grip on me.