I can still hear the sounds of the heavy chair being moved side to side back to its favorite spot in the sun near the big bay window and my arm hair stands at attention as I type these words. A raspberry velvet covered seat with wooden carved arms and curvy legs, it's old and loved by a woman who can't be seen. She's in the dream and doesn't want her favorite chair moved but I do. Why is my oldest daughter in the dream and why is she wearing the permed hair she had in the fourth grade? I'm scared and am suddenly woke to the requests of a daughter needing a quick ride to work on this cold morning with winds blowing in the teens. Her car is frozen shut, no time to analyze a dream or grab a comb. Traffic is steady at 45 miles per hour, lights are on and off, the rhythm is visible, people bus riding, coffee drinkers steaming windows and all in tune to what's playing on the radio. Over and over, the daily grind repeating itself. I'm getting a text for the next mission. "Mom! Kaitlyn is sick with a 102 temperature and I have a lab test at school this morning, will you babysit in ten minutes?" I arrive in time, the day is saved and that's when the dream has melted into nothingness.
It's hard to be sick when grandma is an unexpected visitor.The fever has left and it's time for cartoons, round frozen waffles and pretend pet store fun but suddenly, Kaitlyn has fallen on the floor. The chair's legs are sticking in the air, she's tangled in a pretzel fashion crying mostly because they're old and mom is always having to glue them."I hate old things!" she says and the two nails that stick out the top are dangerous, so I move the chair and say, "let's put it here against the wall in the sun." Before long, the garage doors are opened, mom is home and my job is complete. The drive home is peaceful and I'm thanking God I'm not a young mother, those days were tough. The bill paying worries, schools, bullies and nobody tells us we feel our children's pain, nobody. It never ends, the emotional bonds we share with them. Oh! That reminds me, I need to call her to let her know I have an idea about my grandson's health. "Did you miss me?" we laugh on the phone because I've called too soon and then I remember my dream! It has to be shared, strange thing that it was. "Yes, you were an adult woman and a fourth grader! But the scary part was the haunted chair and the old lady that is attached to it." I go on. Silence. "Hello?" I ask. "Mother!"(that's what she calls me when she's annoyed with me) Is that why you put my chair in the window? Kaitlyn will be napping and I'll be home alone! Don't scare me! You know my dining room chairs are 100 years old." she says. "When you reupholstered them, weren't there layers of different fabrics and was one redish velvet?" I ask. It probably belonged to the woman who's attached to them. "So, what you're saying is, I need to get rid of these damn chairs and put some new ones on my Nebraska Furniture Mart credit card and all my problems will be solved?" she asks. The dream is making sense, it's becoming a symbol to me. My daughter's hair was curly in the dream, as in fourth grade. Her son is in fourth grade. They're putting their house on the market, the teacher is awful, her first year, a yeller and my grandson is suffering. Symbols tell us to pay attention, go back for a second. I ask my daughter to remember her fourth grade, forgive all the feelings in that year, this will clean the energy for her son's year. Sounds odd yes, but it heals. "Did your dining room table come with more chairs", I wonder. "Yes, but we keep those two in the garage, why mom?" she asks. "I think the woman loved those chairs, she wants you to be happy, put the chairs where someone can use them." "So, am I getting new ones?" "I'm sorry, I don't think so, but you're going to look on the bright side of things. Stop living in the shadow, everything needs light especially our worries." I tell her.
Writing this story on groundhog's day is ironic. Some said no, he didn't see his shadow, others said yes he did! Either way, we are going to have six more weeks of winter, we're going to wear an extra scarf under our parka as my sister said last night and we're going to suck it up, carry on, be the sunshine, forget the past and be happy!
...shalalala lalalala, live for today, and don't worry about tomorrow, hey hey hey hey...Grass Roots ~