Tuesday, September 27, 2016
Nightmare come true?
The final dream I had just before waking was one where we were in a hospital. Various family and friends of the family were there wandering in and out of this hospital room we were in. There was no bed in the room or patient but it was implied that it was because of Grandma without it ever being said at first. I can't remember too much of the middle of it but toward the end, an orderly wheeled in the hospital bed...empty. I looked at my mom, she nodded and I knew it was to be taken home for Grandma. When I looked at the bed, I was sucker punched with the knowledge (not a feeling) that was the bed she would die in in a few months time. I woke up with a feeling of confusion and dread. I casually told the Mr that I'd just had a dream they brought in a hospital bed for her at home and she died in it. We both commented on how freaky it was and there had been no news as of recent that would point to that or have it be on my mind.
We went out and about for the day on our road trip and I never gave it another thought. That night...14 hours after my dream, my mom messaged me and said not to freak out in case I stop by but they brought in a hospital bed for Grandma and she's set up in the living room now. My face went white and I gasped and said "oh my God!" The Mr asked what was wrong and I told him and his eyes got big and said "you've got to be kidding me...you find this out the same day you have that dream!?" I have always had this weird connection to my dreams or recurring instances. For example, when we found out that my FIL had a cancer relapse, every single day I would happen to glance at the clock at 9:11 am and pm. Without fail. I'm not a huge clock watcher either. It started to freak me out because when you see 911, you think of exactly what the terrorists wanted you to think of. Or then I wondered if it was 911 like an emergency. Every time I saw it, I got a pit in my stomach. As the date loomed, it was obvious my FIL's health was failing and he begged us to go ahead with our scheduled vacation despite us insisting on cancelling three times. It was on 9/11 that the Mr had the last coherent conversation with his father. It was a glorious, heartbreaking conversation that left them both at peace and assured that they would remember each other in the most joyful of ways.
So anytime I have a dream or something like the above situation that happens it puts my spidey senses on alert. No one said that hospice told them it was time or anything like that. It was conveyed that it would just make it easier on everyone. Trust me, I'm all for that. I tried to process what if this meant that the end really was near. How did I feel about that? Did I feel sad? Upset? Relief? Grateful? The truth is, at first, I felt nothing. June 1, 2014 is when she died for me. It was the day she didn't know me and no amount of explaining who I was by the nice lady who said she was her daughter made it any more clear for her. So for me, I've been grieving her loss for over 2 years. It was the death of the person I knew and loved my whole life. It was the loss of the person who supported me no matter what. So I've felt that grief...deeply. I've been swallowed by it. Her body leaving this world? The arms that hugged me tight upon every goodbye...the hands that touched my face as she smiled and said I was her first grandbaby...the eyes that I see in the mirror every time I smile...would all be gone...and at peace. Her memories restored. Her love felt fully from those who loved her most and the love we had for her, flowing through her and realized in a way she never could here. It's too late for clinical trials...it's too late for mental stimulation to stop her decline...it's too late to get back what we've lost and what a loss it has been. At this point, the loss of the shell of her former self seems minimal compared to what we've already lost because I haven't had those things from her in two years.
Then I got a sinking feeling. The last line of the message kept resonating in my head..."she's set up in the living room." We're having Thanksgiving there. How is this supposed to work exactly?? The guys are supposed to stand over her bed holding their plates watching the Lions play?? Given what a proud, private person she was, surely she wouldn't mind being the "centerpiece". (That was dripping with sarcasm by the way.) So now I'm back to at least dreading Thanksgiving in a doubly distressing way since we get Christmas off from the side show of "nothing to see here!" Or who knows, maybe it's more like "look what we all have to deal with and now it's in YOUR face too...please pass the gravy."
It makes my guts churn thinking of how if she is remotely able to comprehend the situation but is unable to convey it, the utter horror she will feel. I plan to whisper in her ear before we leave that I am so sorry for this holiday situation, I hope she can forgive all of us for putting her in that position and try to get out of there before unleashing. I plan to stake our seats early and they will be with our backs or sides to her out of respect for her dignity, which I feel will have been completely stripped at that point. I want to say something but I fear it would come off very poorly but I think those of you who have gone through this journey with me know what it is. We're there...it's at that point. The time where your prayers turn from giving her a cure to giving her peace...whatever God deems that to be. I have to give it over to Him and ask her forgiveness if any of us did wrong by her in this situation, including myself.
Do you ever have dreams that ended up coming true in an ominous way?
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