September 8, 2003
Wow! What a
really, really fine, but funky weekend! I am trying
to figure out where to start.
First, I had a
great weekend. I told Eric that since he had
completely forgotten my birthday last year (I thought I
really didn't care, but around 11:50pm, I got all weepy
and told him he had 10 minutes left to wish me a happy
birthday... to his defense, he thought it was the
following day, felt badly about it), I was going with the
three-fold law and taking the full weekend, Friday,
Saturday and Sunday for my birthday fete. He was a
real trouper and honored it completely. Yesterday
was Nathan's 4th birthday, so I had to share that one.
The weekend was peaceful, loving and blessed.
Talk about some
night/Saturday morning, so between my birthday and Sept
6th, I woke up at 11:40pm (after falling asleep around
10pm) from a really intense nightmare. When I tell
it to you, it's not going to seem like much, but the
feeling around it was very ominous and strange.
Eric, the children and I had just moved into a very small
apartment on the second floor of a fairly ghetto apartment
building. Eric had a friend (male) over visiting
that I didn't know in real life or in the dream.
They were sitting on the couch talking and I knew that
Eric had to leave for work soon. He was working
nights and it was almost dusk. I was working on the
computer, which was on a coffee table pushed against the
wall, so I was sitting on the floor. In the dream, I
knew the kids were in a back bedroom watching TV.
Eric came over to kiss me good-bye and told me he was
leaving. I asked about his friend and he told me he
wasn't sure if the friend was staying or going.
Friend was just sitting on the couch at the time. I
continued working on the computer, my back to the front
door. Suddenly, a small window popped up on the
computer screen and indicated that a programming was
installing and the PC Cillan virus protector started going
nuts. I frantically tried to close out the install
window, but the screen went black, then the computer
restarted and up popped a full screen cartoon, drawn in
South Park style, of people maiming and killing one
another, buggering each other and lots of other unsavory,
owie things. It was extremely gruesome, even in
cartoon form. So here I go, trying to restart the
computer or get to the virus via a backdoor or whatever.
I heard a
rustling sound, looked up and saw that the friend had
left, but had left the front door partly ajar. I got
up to close the door and as I did so, I saw that there
were three very large women at the top of the stairs.
The apartment complex was set up motel style so that the
steps to gain access to the second floor were on the
outside and led up to drop off directly in front of our
door (we were in the middle of the second floor) and then
apartment doors went off to the right and to the left.
So these women were right in front of me when I went to
the door as they broached the second floor. These
women were large as in very tall and very large, not
Amazonian muscle, but very tall and prison matronish.
They were scowling and took steps toward our door. I
asked them if I could help them and the one in front said,
"No, we'll just take what we want." I went to close
the door and found that the door frame portion where the
dead bolt would lock into was missing, so the door was
swinging freely. They began pushing on the door and
I was trying to hold it. I looked over and saw
Delena getting on the computer and I knew as soon as she
did anything, the screen saver (which was still working)
was going to blink out and she was going to see the
cartoon, so I was trying to yell to her not to touch the
computer, plus hold the door closed from these women who
were trying to get in plus reach for the cordless phone
which was close by. Got the phone and turned it on,
but there was no dial tone. In the same moment, the
women pushed the door open, Delena accessed the
cartoon and Dylan came into the room... then I woke up.
The feeling with
which I awoke was very much one of being unprepared,
vulnerable and something invasive about to happen. I
stayed in bed for a bit, but then decided to get up and
make sure the house was secure. Why ignore a nudge
if it happened to be one and what would it hurt if it
wasn't? I checked the locks, found the backdoor
unlocked and was in the process of dropping down the
curtains (which I tie back to let in the sun) in my office
when, remarkably, the phone rang. The phone was
right in front of me and in a flash, the thoughts went
through my mind that it was likely Josh (my son, 21, in
Fortuna, CA), since he's the only person who would be
likely to call that late and that I didn't want the phone
to wake up Nathan or I'd never get to sleep, so I snatched
it up after the first ring, which did not let caller ID
register the call. I was still awash with the scary
feeling of the dream, the office was really dark and I was
not really prepared to hear a male voice that was very
slightly familiar, but only in that generic, could be
anyone voice way. ...pause... "Can you guess who
this is?" I answered, "No, who is calling please?"
"C'mon, you know who this is." "No, I don't know who
this is and I'm really not in the mood for games.
What can I do for you?" "Never mind, I'll call Eric
on the other line" and he hung up. ?? At
least, that's what it sounded like he said and I
figured he was referring to Eric's cell phone. It
was weird, to say the least. I held the phone for a
bit and looked at the clock on the phone: 11:45pm, 5
minutes after the dream. Was it possible that I had
made the decision to get out of bed, check the locks and
have the strange conversation in just 5 minutes?
Sure, it could happen. I went in and woke up Eric to
tell him about it and he was too sleepy to catch the
eeriness of it all. I tried to sleep and couldn't.
Got up and answered some e-mails for a couple of hours and
then at 2:05am (looked at the clock again), I got a wave
of extreme sleepiness. Went to bed and slept
I was uneasy
about what had happened all through the next day and it
wasn't until the following day (yesterday) that I realized
an even stranger thing. The times... awake at
11:40pm, phone call at 11:45pm and huge sleepy wave at
2:05am, having looked at the clocks at those particular
times. When I birthed Nathan, 4 years ago yesterday,
I woke up at 11:40pm (looked at the clock as I woke up) to
go to the bathroom (one of many, of course), as I was
going back to bed at 11:45pm, my water broke (looked at
the clock to tell the midwives what time the rupture
occurred) and he was born at 2:05am...the EXACT times, 24
hours off and four years later.
What in the world
could it mean? Objectively, I immediately had my
mommymind go to a threat against Nathan, but then I
remembered that technically, he wasn't even in the dream.
I very briefly saw Dylan and Delena was really only there
for a bit. Nathan was in the back watching TV the
whole time. Plus, that just didn't feel right.
Since everything first comes through the veil of
priestess, I then put it into the context of harvest time,
which is now, the period of time between August 1st and
October 31st. How did an occurrence this profound
fit into the context of harvest time? In the dream,
I felt "ill prepared" and "vulnerable," as though my
children were going to be subjected to horrible things
(the cartoon carnage). The personal threat (the
three women who were coming up the stairs) felt more
personal to me than to the children. They also were
clear that they would take whatever they needed. The
phone told me that my contact to other humans was cut
off... no one could help me with this. The women
were obviously going to push through the inadequate door
had the dream continued.
In many ways, the
symbolism of the dream took me back to things that were
going on at the time Nathan was born, as well as right
afterward. I was not at all prepared for what Nathan
was going to bring into my life. Sure, I had a child
who was two and Nathan was my 6th child (three are grown
men, Delena was 6 at the time), so I was no stranger to
birth and child care. Nathan, however, from the very
beginning was a challenging child. He was a fusser
and never very happy being a baby. Delena was the
same way. Dylan, however, was the Practically
Perfect in Every Way Golden Child. He was cuddly,
loving, exceptionally well behaved and absolutely never a
breath of inconvenience. He was just the child an
older mom, having children of love for a husband who had
no children of his own, needed to have. Nathan was a
force of nature and blew into our lives like a hurricane.
Having Dylan as a lead in, I felt confident having another
child, but I was in no way prepared for the experience of
mothering Nathan. He was demanding,
aggressive, "proactive," very loud, not much of a sleeper
and a master of "cause and effect." He loved to see
things happen and to be the one to make them happen.
A child like this is not only the undoing of the older
mom, but also also a stark shock to the system when you
think you've got your life on an even keel.
The three women
who were storming through my door and would not be
subdued, determined to "take what they need," were the
three Fates, coming to take me to my destiny. I
definitely fought against it and no person could help me
in the fight with Fate (the phone).
has definitely helped me to work through the last of my
resistance both toward mothering as an older woman and in
releasing the Mothering time of my life. Three
months after I had Nathan, I had my tubes tied, so no more
babies. After spending 22 years mothering children,
it was unsettling to let go of that part of my life.
Certainly, on an intellectual level, I was not eager to
think of having more children. My pregnancy with
Nathan had been difficult and I could definitely feel the
"I'm finished with this" finality. Letting go on an
emotional and "life change" level was something else
altogether. What we do so strongly defines us on so
many levels that even when it's time to move on, there can
be some clinging and heel dragging and frantic Oh My God
I don't think it
was until this year that I was able to fully embrace the
idea of letting my children grow up without having another
ready to pop out like Pez. I always looked upon the
growing up of my children with a certain degree of sorrow.
I was addicted to the little child cuddles, the trust, the
unconditional love (and still am, I will confess).
When the kids get older and begin making choices for
themselves, the control freak in my goes wild with worry.
I'm terrified of my children being far away and not seeing
them as much as I need and want to see them. I am
very tied into all 6 of my kids and when they are away for
long periods of time, it makes my heart and my uterus
start this harmonized painful wail. This year, I
have harvested peace with celebrating their
accomplishments and growth rather than bemoaning what I no
longer have from them. I'm finally at peace with
loving them for who and what they are now without mourning
what they were, both the big kids and the little ones.
It's very liberating and exciting to be firmly fixed in
the present instead of clinging to the past.
Now, I'm excited
about being a grandma (whenever that comes and I pray it's
on their desired time table) and becoming more involved in
my own interests. Nathan, at four, is still a
dynamic young man, but as he has grown, he has found
outlets for his quick mind and keen curiosity, so he's
calmed down and learned to self-entertain quite a bit.
This frees me up to pursue things that I want to do for
me, like Eye on Soaps and other projects. In the
past, the kids were very time intensive and the time I
spent on the computer was something that I perceived as a
threat and detriment to their well being (symbolized by
the danger I perceived to Delena via the computer).
I think Dylan came in right at the critical moment because
he was not set up to be as affected by my escape into the
computer as Delena, who was older and more needy at that
All of the
components of the dream come together to identify to me
the insecurities and unsettled areas that were mucking up
my life at the time Nathan was born. Whether spurred
by harvest time and the understanding that what I've
harvested is total peace in those areas or some time flux
where I tapped into the energy of that time in an overlap,
I'm certain of the translation of the dream.
interpretation served to remind me of how wonderful my
life is right now. Delena has emerged into a
glorious young woman who, rather than becoming more
complicated, morose and emotionally volatile as she gets
closer to puberty, is actually pulling a reverse whammy
and becoming more peaceful, relaxed, responsible and
self-confident as she gets older. Dylan is still
Dylan and lots of fun. He loves first grade,
although he does occasionally say that the days are too
long now. Nathan is an absolute delight, full of
energy but so much more controlled and happy since he
learned to talk and has developed his fine motor skills.
My relationship with all three older boys is comfortable
and good. Life, in fact, is good.
But that phone
call? How many calls does the average person get at
11:45pm? Was it just there as a time delineator?
To serve as a demarcation of 11:45, the moment when my
water broke with Nathan? No call ever came in that
would back up or explain the odd conversation of the
call. "Can you guess who this is?" No, I still
And what was
going on with Eric and his friend? Was that just
something to give Eric to do in the dream or is there more
to explore there?
Now if I could
just make peace with the whole housecleaning deal, I'd be
fully functional. ;o)