Happy Mother's Day, Gram!

I dreamt of my Grandma for Mother’s Day. It’s not really unusual, I often dream about being “home” at my grandparents’ house, mixing with my cousins and wanting to stay longer. I’m always just about to leave, and sad that I have to go. I never get to stay there long enough.

But this wasn’t your happy, flowery kind of dream, but one in which I was wandering in her home, watching my aunts move things around and pack things up. They were all distracted and talking amongst themselves, but not really to me. I was becoming frustrated that no one seemed to notice that Gram was not there.

“Where is my grandma?” I asked repeatedly, finally becoming tearful and angry. “Where is my grandmother?”

A reply was absently tossed at me.

“But that’s not far from here!” I cried. “I want to see my grandmother before I leave!” I was indignant, and yet, they went right back to what they were doing. I awoke with that choked up, something is not right in my world feeling. I was weepy through most of the morning.

I was a little worried. You see, some years ago when I was young, I dreamed of my Uncle Bruce. In the dream, I walked up the stairs and found his twin sister sitting in his wheelchair in his room. She was crying. “This is all that is left of him,” she said. Two weeks later, he passed away after battling Muscular Dystrophy for 19 years. I thought that I had caused his death.

So at first, I worried that this might be the same for my Gram. I tried to remind myself that it was Mother’s Day, and I was likely thinking of the women in my life. I know that my mother and her siblings are meeting soon to discuss the future. I recently taught a lesson in church on Joseph and his interpretation of dreams. It all added up.

I was also feeling guilty because I haven’t called my Gram in ages. She’s in an assisted living home, and even though her body checked in, her mind did not. It’s a stranger living in my Gram’s body. She doesn’t know who I am when I call, and doesn’t remember afterwards that I have called. My sweet cousin V visits faithfully every week, and Gram doesn’t even remember her.

Another beautiful cousin lost her grandfather a few years ago, and I expressed my condolences. “Oh, it’s okay,” she said sweetly. “He’s been gone for years.” I understand that now.

Is there any part of her that knows that we are there? Will she remember when the veil is lifted? Be upset that we didn’t spend more time calling or visiting? Or will she understand that it was hard to communicate with her from so far away?

Is it abandonment if she abandoned us first?

I wished that I could call her, could tell her all that I needed to say. I wanted her to be my Gram – ornery and all – so that I could talk to her.

My dearest Gram,

Happy Mother’s Day! I hope that your day is filled with joy and laughter!

I love you, Gram. I miss you.

I want to laugh with you about our memories – how you told me when I was a teenager, “Don’t be yourself! Just be nice!” How I winked at you to tease you. How worried you were when I allowed a man – GASP – my grandfather – into my bedroom at Heritage Halls. About the time that you lost track of me at age two and I tried to go to school with the big kids.

I want you to remember them, too.

I want to share my successes with you. I want you to know how proud of Tux I am, for making the President’s Honor Roll in college. Even taking Japanese! I want you to know that he’s becoming himself again. That Addy has lost so much weight and is finding himself to be a handsome young man. That Toddy is finally pottie trained. That one of my graphic designs is being displayed prominently in the resort that I work for.

I want to tell you how exciting it was to see Tux graduate from Seminary. How proud of Todd I am because he says prayers in Primary. I want to talk about the things that I read in the scriptures, and how it applies to my life. I want to share these things because you devoted your life to teaching your family about the Gospel. I know that you would want to know that we got it.

I want to show you that despite all of your worries and concerns about our morality and poor decision making, we turned out okay. I want you to know that we understand why you were so adamant and sometimes…okay, often…critical. We know now because we are mothers. Grandmothers.

We are a family of strong women. We fight for the things that matter. We raise our children with equal amounts of discipline and love. We are good wives. We are a good family. We love each other. We support each other. We are there for each other. You’d be proud of us, if you knew who we were.

Yes, I’m a coward. And I’m ashamed of that. I’m afraid that if I call to talk to you, it will break my heart.

I'm sorry that I'm so weak. I'm sorry that you can't be with Grandpa like you desire. I'm sorry that your time here on earth is dragging on without you really being in it. I'm sorry that I didn't talk to you more often when I could.

Happy Mother’s Day, Gram. I love you. I miss you. And I’m hoping that in the world that you live in, you are happy. That when it’s all over, you won’t remember the time that you spent trapped in a stranger’s mind. And more importantly, you won’t remember that I was such a wimp.

Someday, we’ll look back on this and laugh. That’s my story and I’m stickin’ to it.

Love,

Jaycie

Like Sleeping Beauty

I slept in this morning…what a glorious experience that is! I am blessed with a baby that sleeps until 8 at the earliest, but as late as 11:00! I usually get up to see the older boys off to school, but once in awhile, I like to take advantage of the morning and stay in bed until I actually wake up.

I consider it one of the most magnificent indulgences! That, and what I call “Princess Naps”, in which you have a whole day to accomplish things…beautiful sunshine…and yet, you crawl in your cozy bed and slumber until there’s no more fatigue left anywhere. I don’t get those as often, with a three year old, though.

There is a moment just between sleep and wakefulness that is filled with such joy and promise. You are not yet out of the world of slumber, and dreams float in and out of consciousness. You are aware of your surroundings, but still able to slip back into the fuzzy shadows that take you away with sleep. They often overlap, giving you this amazing blend of reality and surrealism, where your visions embrace your thoughts and anything is possible.

It is this moment that I try to stay in for as long as I can. Having dealt with depression most of my life, I found that this moment is untouched by the disease, and I am most likely to experience happiness and peace if I can prolong my actual waking. I can slip back and forth between the two worlds, unhindered by negative thoughts or self-doubt, liberated by my imagination.

Once my eyes are fully open… when the dreams have fallen away like a silky sheet draped over me, leaving me exposed and vulnerable…I am then clutched by the fears and pain that accompany my sentient mind.

This morning, I saw sunshine coming through the blinds, dappled by the overgrowth of vegetation outside my window. The tiny sparks of light resembled diamonds in the haze of my condition. A down comforter kept me warm and snuggly, surrounded by soft pillows and the folds of cool cotton sheets. It was pure bliss.

I let myself snooze, allowing the content of my dreams to stay a moment longer, allowing me to both take pleasure in and ponder these images. Are these things that my heart yearns for, or are they merely a delusion fueled by random synapse activity in my brain? Can you truly learn from these dreams, allow yourself to work through the stressors of daily life?

I would respond affirmatively. I have found many times in which I have received the answers to prayers in my dreams. I have discovered tiny bits of information that during the daylight hours, I had felt necessary to hide from myself. I have had a visual dialogue with my subconscious and found the key to struggles that I had been going through.

I dream constantly. From the moment my eyes close at night until the alarm sounds shrilly, I am dreaming. I used to remember these dreams well into the day, leaving me feeling exhausted and overwhelmed. I had little ability to screen these, and felt as if I had never slept. I’ve taken medication for years, however, and one of the blessed side effects is that it has differentiated between the two states of consciousness, and given me respite from the strains of being “on” around the clock.

If I am awakened suddenly while in a dream, I find myself feeling disoriented and agitated. I can’t quite put my finger on what was happening in the dream, and yet, I can’t quite shake it. I wrestle with the aftereffects well into my day, trying to snag bits and pieces of the images and put them together into a whole that might make sense to me. I experience moments of déjà vu, where I can almost…but not quite…catch a glimpse into that world that eludes me. For this reason, I try as often as possible to allow my natural cycle to wake me.

Today, I wakened slowly, sweetly, and with none of the negative feelings. What dreams lingered as I woke were pleasant. The sun was shining, and the baby had slept long enough that he, too, was likely to wake in a good mood.

What an incredible start to the day!















My favorite place to wake is in the East bedroom of my grandmother’s house. It is – at least in my mind – MY room. The mountains bump up against the edge of her neighborhood, and block the morning sun for some time. It lights up the sky in radiant colors as it approaches the crest, bursting over the summit in a wash of radiance.

The bed was placed against the west wall, making way for the luminous wave to splash over the windowsill and bathe your face, waking you in it’s brilliance. It was warm and wonderful, and such a glorious beginning to the day.

Once, my cousin and I slept in the back of my dad’s truck in the front yard of Grandma’s. The rear window of the canopy promised to be a window to the sunrise, as well. Unfortunately, before the sun made it through the pane, it had heated the interior of the truck to a stifling degree, and we were forced to emerge, sweaty and gasping. Not quite what I had hoped for!

I must note that in order to achieve this perfect morning, it took a bit of finagling. You see, my dog gets wet food first thing in the morning, and this is something that she looks forward to all night. She lies in wait outside my door, listening for the alarm or any trace of movement inside. And then she goes crazy, whipping the two cats into a frenzy, also. If I do not emerge soon enough, she throws herself against the door, attempting to open it and/or force me to open the door.

Somewhere along the lines, she began looking for me in the baby’s room. Not finding me did not deter her, as it became a very effective way to flush me out. The baby monitor rocks on my nightstand as she slams into the door, which has a loose latch. The door strikes the wall, and you can hear her huff into the room. (She’s a large dog, and none too graceful!)

Then the cats join the action, climbing in the baby’s bed and nuzzling him. He, of course, wakes up screaming with as this furry intruder kneads with it’s claws and purrs loud enough to rattle the windows.

I then come screaming from my room, trying to keep them from waking Mr. Grumpy, who is NOT a morning person. To keep them from any more antics, I go ahead and feed them…and they think, “Mission Accomplished!”

So this morning, I was creative. When I woke about 7ish, I opened the door and let the dog in. Even though the cats are anxiously waiting, they are unable to open any doors, and the baby is safe. And my morning was unhindered.

Mission Accomplished. You just have to be smarter than the average dog.