So, where do I start?  It’s been so long since I posted to my blog.  I made my first post and then abruptly fell off the radar.

Well, my life since that first post has been a crucible of pain and grief, of loss and limitations.  Just a few weeks ago, I had remarked to a dear friend that I had begun to feel like Job, the man who had endured many trials and was finally delivered by God into a genuine, lasting peace.  She simply smiled and nodded, saying “yes, I know.”

So, here I am, more than a year later.  Still peeling layers off the onion of emotion that has held my heart in a vice-like stranglehold.  Why do I write today?  Well, it’s all because of an odd dream I had the other night.

The dream unsettled me, and it wasn’t until later in the day that its meaning became clear to me.  In the dream, I was in a dark, tunnel-style ramp which led from a parking lot up to the street above.  Inside the tunnel were workmen.  They appeared to be bracing and cleaning the walls of the tunnel.  I was standing outside my car.  I was very upset.  I couldn’t move my car or leave the tunnel because there were items that I needed to get into the back of my car, an SUV and a very large item, a tall, heavy toolbox, that wouldn’t have fit into my car and thus would have to be towed.

The workmen eventually tried to help me, but they too concluded that the only way the toolbox was moving was by being towed.

I appeared to have only two choices.  Either call my son and ask him to help me or leave the item behind.  I didn’t want to call my son because it would have interrupted his workday, and it was far from his job.  I didn’t want to leave the item either.  My husband had given me the toolbox several years ago for Christmas.  He thought I could keep much of the yarn I had accumulated inside the box.  I never had the heart to tell him that the toolbox wasn’t what I had in mind and that I would have preferred plain old plastic totes.

My husband passed several years ago and the toolbox, now empty of yarn, was one of the things that I moved into a spare room months after his passing.

Eventually, I woke up.  I found the dream disturbing, and it remained vivid in my mind.  It was an odd dream, with odd people, odd events, odd location, odd items.  In a word, odd.

I moved on with my day and my best friend came later in the morning and we drove to our favorite location for a lovely, late autumn walk.  The sky was clear and deep blue, the sunshine was warm, a gentle breeze blew, and the air was crisp and refreshing, the leaves swished and crunched beneath our feet as we made our way down the trail.

As we walked, we talked.  Her dog Elsa led us down the trail.  Halfway to the mid-point of our hike, I remarked that the five-year anniversary of my husband’s passing was just a couple of days away and that I could feel myself reacting to the grief and the myriad of emotions that go along with it.  I said even though it’s been five years, I’m still feeling it very much.

Wow!!!  I nearly stumbled as the light of clarity broke across my mind like sunshine pouring through parted clouds.  The dream suddenly made sense.  I was trying to leave the parking lot of my life via the exit ramp which led up to the street filled with light and the living.  I had to stop in the middle of the tunnel because of items that needed to be packed into the back of my car, and the issue of what to do about the toolbox had to be resolved.

When my dream had ended, I still hadn’t decided what to do about the toolbox.  However, out there, on the trail, I suddenly understood.  In order to leave the tunnel and move on, I had to leave something behind.  The toolbox represented what I needed to leave behind.  It represented my husband, his caring and sometimes quirky way of caring.  It represented my having to let go of something I had been towing around with me because I didn’t want to let go; I was afraid to let go.

It’s so odd (there’s that word again) that I haven’t wanted to let go of grief, of memories, that I’ve been afraid that by letting go I would be dishonoring my husband’s memory.  But the dream also made it very clear to me that if I didn’t let go, I couldn’t move forward and I would remain forever stuck in that tunnel-like nether region of going nowhere fast surrounded by stuff that wouldn’t, indeed couldn’t, help me get unstuck.

As I reflect with additional clarity this morning, I realize that this past year has been filled with so many difficult letting gos of: my good health, my beloved horse, a cherished cat.  Yet, because I had no choice, I did let go and I’ve survived.  However, as my dream made clear, the most difficult release had yet to be made.  I imagine it will be a process.  That I will have to constantly remind myself that honoring the past means embracing the present, planning for the future, and doing things today instead of putting them off until tomorrow.

And, oh yeah, my best friend’s dog named Elsa, remember the song that Elsa from the movie Frozen sang? Let It Go! The universe was clear in the direction it gave me.

So, this morning, here I am.  Writing my second blog post.  I apologize for the lengthy delay.  Realizing that writing my story is healthy, is healing, and that it forces me to clear my mind of cobwebs that cloud my inner-vision, I will make the effort to write and post with predictable frequency.  I see now that when I stopped writing, it was just another way to hold onto things I should have been letting go of – emotions of course.  It hasn’t just been writer’s block; it’s been self-imposed exile from engaging in an active life.  The fact that Thanksgiving is just around the corner is not lost on me.  I have so very much to be grateful for: my life, my son, my improving health, my dear friends, the list is very long.

I took the time to reread my first post and was struck by my reference to having survived the first stage of grief – denial.  I’m not sure what stage holding onto the past falls into.  But, going forward (and I am going forward), I think it may be a daily challenge to keep myself focused not only on what’s in front of me, but that which lies ahead of me as well.

I invite you to chime in and let me know if any of this resonates with you.  Until I post again, be well, live well, dream well!  Thank you.