Today was a real struggle and I never quite made it out of my head. When I tell you my dreams…you’ll understand why.
The first dream started off with my mom sitting in a chair looking very sad. I asked one of my cousins (not familiar) why my mom was so sad? This cousin said my grandpa locked my grandma away and wouldn’t let her go until she signed off on the farm. She thinks grandma is close because last night she could hear her screaming.
The next thing I know, my grandpa is in the chair. He calls me over, I don’t want to go but I know I have to go. He reached his hand out to me palm up and his palm was black. My hand was pale and small compared to his but I placed my hand in his palm.
I tried to rally my cousins to go in after grandma but they were too scared. I started to go off on my own. My grandfather finally releases my grandmother and I go to greet her. There are other women being released as well. They are all old and gray and at the end of the line is my grandma. I want to run and hug her but I know my mom should hug her first so I wait and I watch my mom hug her mom. That was the end of dream number one.
Thoughts on that one? Ancestral maybe??
The next dream starts off with me at a party. All of the people at the party are young and there is a young man, Puerto Rican maybe? He was cute and funny and we were having a nice conversation. There was a beautiful young girl with thick dark hair who seemed to be upset. I was confused since he was so young…he could have been my kid! We were just talking. I put my hand on the top of his head and I saw an older couple who were locked in a box in a wall. A man opened the box and threw in some bread and then locked the door while laughing as he walked away. I thought it was a strange thing to see? ( I “felt” like this is why this nice boy was involved in sex trafficking.)
Then I was in a car with a man and we were driving away from somewhere. I looked around and said “where is the Girl?” We were about a half hour away from the hotel. I picked up my phone to call the hotel when I noticed a text from my contact at the hotel. He said that the Girl went to a dinner with the nice boy from the party. There was more but half of the words seemed to be in symbols? I didn’t know what they said?
The next scene has me looking over my daughter. Her hair is in braids and she is laying down. She said “that was smart of you getting me to go into the bathroom.” (is that how I was able to connect with her?) I said “you are shaking” followed by “I know you’re scared but hold on, I coming to get you.”
I go back to the place where the party was and I am asking how to find this nice boy. I don’t use racial slurs but in my dream I said “I need to find him and if the Spic touches my daughter I will peel the skin from his body layer by layer.” A black girl with short hair said “now that…I can sell tickets for.” Then I woke up.
That last dream stayed with me all day. This is also the second dream I have had with the dark undercurrents of sex trafficking. What the heck could that even mean? To be honest? I can’t think about it anymore.
I had a couple of strange things happen today as well. I was adjusting a patient’s glasses when a frame popped into my head. I walked out with the frame still warm in my hand, pressing on the area I needed to tighten up. I was standing in front of my row of Marciano frames looking for the frame when the patient says “I have the frame right here.” How did she know what frame I was looking for and yes…it was the right frame. She ended up picking that frame so it was meant to be. It was just strange.
I have been laying low lately…working on a couple of things. I accidentally created chaos in my basement this weekend. I have decided to get a chest freezer (which ironically has sold out at all Sam’s clubs) so I needed to move stuff around. At the bottom of the basement stairs there is a door to an old fruit cellar with a dirt floor under the front porch. It was already taped off but some pretty big spiders have been seen crawling out of that door. So I bought some heavy duty plastic and taped off the door again and then covered it with plastic. It does not look nearly as scary now.
There was another door that leads to a small room under the back porch. I was ready to tape it off as well. Something made me take another look. Yes it was a little damp and covered in a million spider webs but yet it had potential. Big K bought me some paint and I went in…I only had to kill 3 spiders but I can’t say for sure how many eyes were watching me. I was able to paint 3/4’s of the room. Without a shop vac and without someone to back me up when spiders came flying out of the corner…that was as good as it gets. I was able to get two shelves in there and now this is where my empty canning jars and bottles for projects live.
The rest of the basement is still in chaos but it is getting there. I certainly didn’t need to start this project but what else do you do on a long weekend that is 80% cloudy with rain? During my painting/spider fighting I started listening to Year One by Nora Roberts. I remember rolling the paint on and stopping in mid air about five minutes in….What am I listening to? When was this written? WTF? It turns out Stephen King did not write 2020, Nora Roberts did.
I have something else I’m working on and I don’t have time for distractions and yet…they keep popping up….Zia