Stuck

The other night, I had a dream that I was in a car pulling into a miniature garage. A giant car trying to fit into a tiny space, like in "Alice in Wonderland." I looked up the dream interpretation, curious to get some insight into my state of mind. The definition read, "... stuck."

I do feel stuck.

After a year of hard grieving, I knew it wouldn't go away, but I need it to. It's been such a long time to feel great sadness, have nightmarish thoughts, and be triggered to tears at the sight of every 3 to 5-year-old blonde girl. I wish I could take it off my shoulders and run like the wind, but it's not something you can walk away from.

I had another dream. Four men stood outside my door. I hurried and locked them out, afraid they would hurt me or even just infringe on my solitude. Sometime later, I decided to let them in. It was my dad, flanked by 3 super heroes. They had come to my rescue. I almost knocked my dad over as I rushed at him and leaped into his arms. I haven't seen him in almost 13 years.

It made me wonder if I am shutting people out of my life who could be a great blessing to me. I've needed the alone time while the kids are at school, but all that solitude can shrink your world. You lose objectivity. You forget that other people are struggling with their own problems. You miss out on their validation and insight and inspiration as you hear their stories.

It also made me think my dad is leading the charge in my family's battle with grief.

I love you, Dad.