Picture a heart..a real heart, with the chambers, arteries, valves, and blood pumping through it. It was HUGE, and of course, bright red. It was all alone in total darkness. It was MY heart. There were interesting things that I noticed about the heart in my dream. There were tiny scratches all over it, huge gaping wounds on the top, and parts that had appeared to be "patched up."
Okay, onto the weird (er) part...there were at least twenty people on scaffolding working on the giant heart. They were taping, gluing, hammering, sewing, and painting my heart. I could not see or recognize any of the workers faces, but I could FEEL various emotions as each injury was being worked on. I remember noticing that other defects were forming just as one would become "healed."
That was it. I woke up. I was unsure of how to feel about the dream, so I lay awake trying to contemplate the meaning behind it.
I'm sure some of you all have already formed your own opinions about my bizarre reverie. But here's mine:
The tiny scratches represent small events in my life that have left a mark on my heart, like moving and leaving friends and family behind, being set back involving self goals, or having my feelings hurt by someone I care about. The gaping wounds, to me, represent the damage that has been done to my heart since loosing my precious Wyatt. The patched up areas made me believe that those are the things in which I have forgicen others for causing. And, of course, the constantly occuring marks are everyday battles in which I face in this confusing world.
As you can guess, I believe that the "workers" in my dream were friends and family members who love me and are constantly trying to help me to heal. I noticed that no one was working on the big gaping wounds, however, and I'm not sure why. Maybe they will always be there? Maybe no one knows exactly where to start? Maybe the workers are afraid to "make matters worse" by touching the big sores?
I don't have all of the answers, but I do know this: those who have shown genuine compassion and love to me over the course of the past 6 months (and before) are definitely helping my heart to continue to pump adequately, allowing me to continue to live. I have been shown that many times, and I was shown it in its full glory last night. Last night was day 15 of a photography/grief project that I am taking part in. Across the globe, friends and family lit candles in remembrance of Wyatt and other angel babies that have left us all too soon. I was expecting a few family members to join me and possibly close friends. The response was overwhelming, and most didn't even have a prompt. Now, I am sure that some just "jumped on the bandwagon," but I'll give all the benefit of the doubt on this one. Selfless and caring acts such as those are what bring smiles to my face and place a bandage on my ever-bleeding heart.
So, I say, thank you. Thank you for Day 15.
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