Life's Mysteries

MARY'S  DREAM

At 89 years old Mary Ellis rarely dreams at night. She hasn't dreamt in years, she claims. So, she was a bit rattled recently when she woke up to a very intense dream. A dream that was so life-like to her that she could feel and sense everything that was going on in it. Too life-like for her liking.

Mary is a twin. Well, actually, was a twin is somewhat more accurate. Her sister Dora died six years ago after being taken over by the clutches of Alzheimers for several years before that. As close as Mary and Dora were all through growing up and even in their adult years, the last several years were hard for Mary to see her sister's decline, and perhaps most of all, to lose their close relationship, especially as her sister lived her last years in oblivion. That was so hard for Mary to accept.

As other family members passed on, the family matriarchy has fallen upon Mary. She reluctantly wears the crown that goes with this title. "Why me? I never wanted to be this old! How did this happen?"

Recently she's grown sad about it - losing everyone in her life, having no one to share the stories of her youth with, laugh with, enjoy her life with. Don't get me wrong, Mary is not wallowing in self-pity in her old age. She gets up every morning before 5 AM, has her coffee and does her crosswords. She gets dressed, and I mean dressed -- I've never seen her in a pair of pants in my life! She puts on a beautiful suit just as she had from her working days as head secretary (we'd call her an Administrative Assistant these days) to Edwin Land of The Polaroid Corporation. She wears stockings and a pair of short heeled pumps and heads out with a matching coat and bag to meet the bus for her daily jaunts to town to meet friends for coffee or go shopping at TJ Maxx or Marshall's.

She cuts a striking figure even now, though over the years her weight has been steadily dropping. She might weigh about 72 pounds right now. "I've just lost my appetite," she says. But, all that aside, she'll remind you that she's never, ever dyed her still jet black hair! Though just as quickly she'll point to a spot in her head and say with amazement, "But, look at all this white that's just started to come in."

And, I have to search and search because I can't see a spot of white in her head!

Mary called the other morning rather disoriented and rattled, as I said. As she related her dream to us you could hear the fear and anxiety in her voice. In her dream she said her sister Dora was holding her hand as they walked together. Dora was speaking to her, encouraging her to "Come with me. You'll like it here."

Dora tugged on Mary's hand harder as she pulled her toward a dark pool and said, "Just dive in."

Mary looked down into the pool and instead of the expected pool of water saw a black, oozing murky substance that scared her off. She pulled back from her sister's strong hold and said, "No, I'm not ready yet."

And, with that, Mary woke up.

As she spoke to us about the dream she was clearly still thrown off by it's hold on her. We didn't really know what to say except that dreams mean many different things...and maybe even mean nothing. Obviously, by your reaction to the dream you aren't ready to go to that next stage yet, we said. And, she agreed. "No, I guess I'm not ready for that yet. Sometimes I think I am, but I guess I'm really not."

Today we spoke with Mary as she was getting ready to jump on the bus and go meet her friends for coffee and go out shopping. Just another day.

************************************************************************************************

JIM'S DREAM

After a couple of years of declining health, my Dad decided that he was ready to die, but he wanted to die at home with Home Hospice Care assistance. The family came together to help him in his effort, trying to make it a somewhat comfortable experience and hopefully help minimize any pain he may have. I spent a couple of weeks with he and my mother and watched as he went from coherent and alert, to actively withdrawing from the life experience to tend to his dying experience. I often awoke from a very light sleep in the middle of the night to hear him speaking and go in to see if he was okay. Every night and morning he'd share with me some amazing story of places that he'd been in the night, people he was working with, and questions that he had.

One morning he woke and looked intently at me while asking, "Did you get your number yet?"

I never knew where these discussions were going to go so I always went along with him. "No. What number? Did you get one?"

"Oh, yeah. Everyone was in line for their number. Mine was 4-2-1-2." His eyes gleamed with that special sparkle that he always had when he was excited about something.

"4-2-1-2?" I repeated.

"No, no, no. I think it was 5-2-1-2. I think I might go back and check." And he drifted back off.

When he came to an hour or two later he right away said to me. "Did you remember that number I told you?"

I said, "You first thought it was 4-2-1-2, but then you changed it to 5-2-1-2."

"Oh, no. It's changed." He said with complete earnesty. "I rechecked. It's 5-6-1-2."

I repeated the numbers back to him, "5-6-1-2?"

"Yup, that's right." And he drifted off again with a settled, content look on his face.

A few days later I needed to return home, back to work. My sisters would take over.

I got the call less than a week after I returned home that Dad had passed away on December 6, 2006. That night my sister and mother saw him and knew he was in his last hours. My sister checked on him sometime after 2:30 AM and he was still breathing, although much more labored. She went back to bed, though not necessarily to sleep as she listened for the labored breathing in the next room. She got up again around 5:30 when she'd realized that she couldn't hear his breathing anymore. She called Mom in to share the news with her and as they looked down at him they saw that he had a very contented smile on his face.

Dad died sometime that night - perhaps around 5 AM. I later remembered back to his "numbers dream" -

5-6-1-2

5 AM, the 6th day of the 12th month.

5-6-1-2

Comments

[Laraine]

What an incredible experience of your father's numbers. And that woman never dyed her hair? Even more amazing! The intimate and safe way your family made possible for your father's passing is inspiring. These are terrific stories.

[Rich]

Wow, That's pretty amazing about the numbers. It really gives you something to think about. I wonder how many people who play the lottery have so called numbers? Anyway,thanks for the great story

[elizabeth cobblah]

I love these glimpses of a vital old lady and your dying father. They are strong little nuggets of life reminding us of mystery and meaning.
I am intrigued now by the notion of writing about a death, which is another way of writing about a life! thank you!

[jma]

i really like that...it makes me smile

love ya janey