I broke out a new pair of Saucony 3D Grid Hurricane 5 running shoes this morning. Oh, I get so excited every few months or so when it's time to slip my feet into a brand new pair. I wore the old kicks as long as possible, but they've just worn out - poor little things. I'll just have to use the old pair to knock around in and these new ones just to run in! Oh, Saucony.. . . .
I've had the strangest dreams lately. Last night I had a dream that I was part of a New Orleans funeral. You know, the ones where they march through the street in colorful attire, play their long drawn out trumpet melodies, women wail tears of sadness/joy/desperation, and dance with fringe lined umbrellas. Only it was someone I love dearly in the coffin. A coffin the size of a butter dish. We entered into this pearly white building that was just bright as could be. Then, I kept getting angry at this guy to my right in this sort of auditorium we were in and he started throwing knives at me. I can see his face, although I don't think I've ever met him in life. Strange....I'm a bizarre dreamer anyway. And then I had this same dream I've had several times this week of a friend of mine just handing me a cup of water, like it was nothing. The water is in this cup I used to drink out of as a child. The cup once held the image of a cartoon dog's head but after years of cycles of the dishwasher and abuse it's faded now.
I once had a chef I worked for over hear me telling a friend one of my crazy dreams and he came to me in tears interpreting it to me. He told me I was sent here by God to work with him on bringing others to know the truth. I was supposed to creat a piece of artwork that would be comperable to the creatons of the glorious Micheangelo. And, here's the kicker, I was supposed to give birth to the next Messiah. "Ok! Take care you nut!" I left that job shortly there after. It says in the bible to turn from people who interpreted dreams. So, I did. There were some other poor souls I worked with that were not educated in the teachings of the scripture. They did not know that the words that came from the mouth of this man were tainted with HIS OWN blood, NOT JESUS'S. I tried explaining this to a few before I left, even showed them in the bible where it says it is wrong to interpret dreams, but they basically told me to shut up. I've heard from a few of them since then who had left as I did.
What an interesting world we live in.
I sat last night at St. Thomas hospital observing my grandmother as she watched her husband sleep. He has cancer, but he's in the hospital with a slight adverse reaction to a medication. My grandparents have been married for 55 years. Patsy and Conrad ~Fifty-five years. What an amount of time to spend with another human being. They've been through it all.
My grandmother had 3 miscarriages before they ever conceived my mother, who is the eldest of three girls. My grandfather was an airplane mechanic in WWII when they were first maried. He still works as an airplane mechanic and an aerospace instructor. There are countless plaques on his wall naming him "Airplane Mechanic of the Year". Companies fly him in from all over to sign off on new planes. My grandmother has been a hard worker all her life, also. She's managed department stores and the woman is a wiz at numbers. Not to mention she decorates her house like you've stepped into a Southern Living magazine.
While my grandfather was at war my grandmother lived at her parent's house, amongst her 14 siblings, and then at her mother in law's house sharing a bed with my grandfather's sister. Rita, my grandfather's sister, was in town last weekend, and I was over there for hours just talking up a storm with her. That woman can talk the leg off a donkey (now I know where I get it from, it's genetic). She told me a story about one night when my grandmother was sharing a bed with her, and in the middle of the night she felt someone hugging her saying "I love you, Conrad." Rita he-hawed and then said "I'm not Conrad, Ya Mut!" God, I love my family!
It's just got to be so difficult to see someone you've shared a lifetime with suffer in a stark white hospital room. They don't seem like the grandparents I've known my entire 25 years. We were sitting there watching CNN (sorry Abby) cover Hurricane Katrina and they were talking about the trip they took last year down to New Orleans. Telling me all about the beautiful Bed&Breakfast they stayed in. Brows furrowed, worried that the couple that owned it was washed away by the waters. They've stayed in every Bed&Breakfast this side of the Mississippi, and I whole heartedly believe they are not done yet. My grandmother kept saying "I've just got to be positive." and "God is not going to make me be alone in life now. I've never been alone."
God, please take his cancer away. I'm going to spend the night with her tonight. It's not the same as my grandfather being there with her, but at least she won't be alone.
