I made this doll for my granddaughter Brooklyn, who is due on July 1st. When I was a young girl I loved Raggedy Ann and I still keep a small collection of handmade Raggedy Ann dolls in our guest bedroom piled high on an antique chair. I’ve often daydreamed about how fun it would be to have a granddaughter discover them someday while crawling around and exploring our house. We dream a lot of dreams in our life, dreams about big careers and big paychecks, about exotic vacations and maybe even about movie star boyfriends, as Americans we are taught to dream big. But I think maybe it’s the little dreams that matter the most. The little dreams along with those small everyday wonders that when added together expand our hearts and make us more grateful, more loving people. So maybe give yourself a break today, set aside those big dreams that seem to be a million miles away, and go ahead and dream yourself just one sweet and lovely little dream.
Stumbled on the U.K. artist Edward Monkton’s website the other day and fell in love with his sense of humor and simple line drawings. Check it out, I guarantee you will smile…and what better way to end the week? 🙂
I haven’t paid much attention to Miley Cyrus or the whole Hannah Montana movement, but I came across this video of one of her new songs and really liked it. Good song, good message, and so far she seems to be a good kid who hasn’t been corrupted by the fame game (yet!). Another plus is it’s kind of uplifting, which I could really use. I’ve been dragging lately and I’m not sure why. I’m not sleeping great, having a lot of dumb, stress-filled dreams that seem to leave me more tired when I wake up than when I go to bed, overall I’m just feeling a bit gutted. Oh well, spring is right around the corner and it will probably do this body good to get outside and into the garden.
A few nights ago I was dreaming that I was in strange apartment at some kind of family get-together. There were small round tables set up and I was scanning the people at the tables, looking for my mom. I walked over and peered around a half wall and saw her. She appeared how I remember her at the end of her life when she was very ill and I didn’t want to see her that way so I went back and sat down at another table. When I looked up she was sitting across from me, healthy and young, younger than I have conscious memory of her. She tried to say something but I couldn’t understand her so we got up and moved toward each other and we embraced.
I was going to tell her that I wanted her to give me a sign or come to me in my dreams so that I would know that she was okay. But as I wrapped my arms around her and felt the softness of her short curly hair against my left cheek, I suddenly understood what seemed to be happening so instead I simply said, “I just wanted to tell you that you were a great mom.” I woke up with my lips moving and I heard my own whispered voice speaking out loud, “…a great mom.”
I believe that imagination is stronger than knowledge – myth is more potent than history – dreams are more powerful than facts – hope always triumphs over experience – laughter is the cure for grief – love is stronger than death.
I went to a baby shower for a friend’s daughter on Sunday. At first, as I watched the radiant mom-to-be open one cute pink gift after another, it made me happy. But I have to admit that by the end of the afternoon I practically ran out of that room. While slipping into my coat before I made my great escape, I overheard another friend say that she had just finished addressing her own Christmas cards as well as her mother’s cards. I had just finished addressing the invitations to my mom’s memorial. My own granddaughter was due on September 7th, my mom died on September 30th. As I drove home under a canopy of golden autumn leaves, I had one of those moments that sneak up on you, that suddenly wash over you just when you thought you were doing really great handling the trials of your life. I let the tears fall freely and I remembered a dream I had when the kids were still pregnant.
Two weeks before Andy and Meagan found out that the pregnancy was in trouble, and three weeks before they lost the baby, I had this dream. In the dream we had a house full of family and I was scurrying around like I do when I suddenly saw this little baby sitting in a highchair at a table. The baby wasn’t part of the crazy dream, it was slightly transparent, blond and blue-eyed with a faint glow surrounding it. I sat down across from the baby as the rest of the dream paused and fell away. I asked the baby if it knew what the sex of the coming baby was. The baby looked at me, smiled, and answered, “Can’t you just be patient and wait two more weeks until they find out?” I said, “No, can you tell me?” (not at all surprised that the baby, who looked to be about nine months old, was talking to me). The baby giggled, a sweet, sweet little laugh like the sound of peeling bells, then it looked down shyly and said, “It’s a girl.”
Of course, now I wish I had asked the dream baby if the baby in my daughter-in-law’s belly was healthy, if everything was going turn out okay. After they lost the baby (it was a girl) I was angry that I’d had that dream because a part of me was hoping that the baby in the dream was the baby that I would be holding in my arms by my birthday come September. If I could ask for any dream right now it would be one where I see my mom, young and healthy, her arms cradling a blond, giggling blue-eyed baby girl.
I dreamt this sky and green field, although my attempt to recreate it falls a bit short, it was much more vivid and beautiful. The entire scene was draped in a misty sunlit rain that was falling both down and up, very cool:)
The dream is the small hidden door in the deepest and most intimate sanctum of the soul, which opens into that primeval cosmic night that was soul long before there was a conscious ego and will be soul far beyond what a conscious ego could ever reach. ~ CarlGustav Jung