In grief counseling today, I drew a picture of myself and my sister (my counselor uses art sometimes in the sessions)--I drew myself in a purple dress, standing in my garden, my arms outstretched to her as she hovered beside me in a gray bubble. I had talked of feeling very separate from the process of helping to take down her apartment and scatter her ashes; she left these tasks to other people. Yet my counselor pointed out that I drew her as still with me in my daily life.
I dreamed about her the other night, but it wasn't the usual type of visitation dream--I dreamed I was swimming in the pool of my childhood home, but the pool had turned into a wonderful lagoon; I floated on my back and looked at the sky, an incandescent blue on the cusp between day and night, and I saw a gorgeous oval of incredibly brilliant light move slowly across it. I knew that was my sister, and that I was seeing her as she really is now. It was a very comforting dream, and one that has stayed with me.
Well, back to the mundane world and my 1A syllabus. Thanks for stopping by!
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