I don't dream about her often. It's actually pretty rare. It was years before she came to me in dream. Like the kind of dream I could both see and hear her…those kinds never happened. She was always a glimmer just off set. More of a feeling of her presence than actually being in the room with me. It left me thinking that it hadn't really happened when I awoke.
Would I ever be able to hear her say my name again?
Would I even recognize her voice anymore?
Then, when I was pregnant with George, I dreamt I saw her in the grocery store. In real life, I actually rarely shopped at this store but the day I figured out George might be on his way I was in the parking lot. I remember this dream so vividly. It's the only time she's ever spoken directly to me.
I was pushing the cart in the produce section with McKenna in the child seat. I was just picking up some rosemary.
Please note that I almost never cook with fresh rosemary. Exactly one recipe I make uses this ingredient. I made it many years ago for an impromptu Mother's Day celebration at my sister's house. It was such a fun and unexpected day with my mom. Another connection, I guess.
While pushing the cart, she placed her hand on top of McKenna's and stopped me from moving forward. She was directly in front of me. I could see the rest of the people in the store just kind of fade into the background until they completely disappeared. The sounds quietly dimmed until there was no sound at all. She placed her hand on my belly.
Karyn. You're having a baby. My baby is having another baby.
I am. We didn't think it would happen. We tried and tried. And then…I don't know. I think maybe it was you.
She smiled and reached out for a hug. We wrapped our arms around each other while our fingers interlaced on top of McKenna's cubby little hand. All of us were just frozen in time. Three generations of women…the oldest having never met the youngest. And then she was just gone. My arms closed in around my torso in slow motion like you see in the cartoons when the ghost someone was just grabbing vanishes into thin air. Slowly the sounds of the grocery store began to hum like someone turned up the volume knob. Everyone came into focus as if they hadn't disappeared at all but made fuzzy by a photography trick. And then it was over.
When I awoke, she was gone. But the tears left on my cheeks told me it had been real.
In book club years and years before, we read a book called The Language of Flowers by Vanessa Diffenbaugh. In the book, the author describes how each flower has a special meaning. People would communicate using this language of flowers. Some of us spent time looking up the flowers in our wedding bouquets deciphering their meanings. My was…ominous at best. But after my dream, something told me to look up rosemary. The origin of rosemary comes from one of literature's most well known wordsmiths.
There is Rosemary, that's for remembrance, Pray you, love, remember.
William Shakespeare's Ophelia
Rosemary is known for symbolizing memory, remembrance, and wisdom. Consider rosemary to send a message that you are grateful for and will always remember the wisdom and lessons passed on from someone who has passed.
It was comforting to hear her voice. I had long assumed it would be haunting. After reading about the meaning of rosemary I was sure that my dream was no coincidence. After just over ten years without her, I still don't see or hear her often in my dreams. But this dream…this will forever be seared into my brain never to be forgotten.
No comments:
Post a Comment