Dreams

I had a dream about you last night. We were in a house that was hanging on the side of a cliff. It was in pretty rough shape - and some of the house was hanging off the cliff and going to fall into the abyss below. We were in the basement for some reason and started disassembling the walls. When we finally knocked off the wall we discovered a room with uncased glass window panes in it. Before you started to throw those down and smash them into pieces, I wanted to crawl up to the first floor through a small opening in the floor. At first I didn't think I'd fit but you encouraged me to do so and that was the last I saw of you. The first floor room was recently abandoned and my mind concluded it was some older man who was in the last days of his life. Laying around the tidy room were remnants of his nursing tools - paper changing gowns like they have at the doctors office and what not - and on the ledge above the sink were a bunch of funky monkey figurines. I was thinking about wrapping them up in the paper gowns and packing them away - to hear Chris's voice summoning me from another room.

In part of that dream - or maybe a separate one entirely - I was trying to scale a rock wall after taking some delicious grapes from some natural health food grocery store. I was nearing the top, but for some reason couldn't make the mantle move to get over the wall. My right hand had a super good grip on a jug but I couldn't quite get the proper foothold or commit to going for it. It was only a 15 foot drop but thoughts of injury kept me gripped to the wall. At that point I realized I should call for help and some random stranger passing by lent me his hand and hoisted me up.

Weird. I haven't had bizarre twisted dreams like that in a while. What does it mean? I wonder if having Ryan there in my dream in the basement was a allegory to life - in that he'll always be there, cheering me on and encouraging me to do the impossible? What about being in a room by myself, discovering the different items in it and using them to my likening?

Or maybe it was one too many margaritas.

I'm starting to think that I should rename this blog as acceptance. Some time has passed since Ryan died and I'm starting to constantly see the sunny side of things again. I know that there will be some fluctuation of this feeling - which is only natural. Yet every day I seem to have more and more happiness in my life as things even out.

I rode my motorcycle the past two days in a row and I realized just how much fun it is to drive those machines. To feeling of air whisking you around, the speed of a machine underneath, the power at the flick of a wrist.

For the first time since this weekend, I just thought how nice it would be to have shared that experience with Ryan. He would have eaten up every single detail as I told him about it. He would listen with such passion and enthusiasm - making me feel like the most important person in the world. Man, I do miss him.

Reflection

I had to tell a complete stranger my story today.

And as I told them about what happened in 2008, I couldn't help but think, maybe I'm telling too much? Maybe I shouldn't include this detail or that? Why did I include a certain personal detail, which at this point all feels personal. But yet I didn't want to mask my experience. They could never truly know what it felt like to be me and to go through what I did so I continued on with my story.

I was asked, as I am from time to time, do you think you had time to grieve? And my answer is yes, as much as my body and mind would physically allow me to. But I also realize this process will never be over. I know I will always hold Ryan true to my heart and recognize that I had something so great and amazing - that nothing can ever replace him in my heart.

In telling my story, I also realize that I am more sure of what I want now. I don't fret on the details or smaller things in life but I look at the bigger picture - or at least strive to every day. My desire lies in growing in each day. Taking the lessons that life has to offer and learning from them. Creating and nurturing positive relationships.

A moment of clarity, eyes wide open - the colors outside look brighter. The buds on the trees practically growing before my very eyes. The movement of the water in the canal, the caw of a distant crow. Life keeps spinning and I'm thankful to be a part of it.

I can feel a surge developing. A wave is sure to hit - especially since I've moved so many things. Your computer is now upstairs - being used on a regular basis. Makiah visits me in the spare bedroom to check out what the heck I've been up to. It feels good to have it here - in this space. Your pictures will surely grace the walls in the days to come. Your books brought upstairs and will sit on a shelf as a silent friend ... oh god, here it comes. The first wave.

But things have to change. I'm willing them to. And with it will come peace. I'm not doing it as a way to forget - but more of a way to move on. To accept the finality of how different my life is now and that it's time to make the most of it.

In a way I don't care what's next. I'm living in this very moment, feeling it for what it is and appreciating every single second of it.

This room has healing powers. I've always thought so. It has a nice big window that faces south and gets lots of wonderful light. It's painted a dark mauve color - and in my mind serves as the heart and soul of this house. Funny, there were so many colors we wanted for the interior of the house and you let me pick without flinching. And this one, this one is my favorite. Why did I let it sit dormant for so long?

Sayonara 2009. Like my friend Jill said last night, "even years are much better for me." Ain't that the truth?

And a new decade at that - just in the nick of time. Looking forward to creating some new skate memories in the Methow this upcoming week and skating my brains off. Stoked.

It's hard not to hold onto things. Hard to let go of notions of what's right in this world - things that are often ingrained in you as a kid. That happiness means having a corporate job, having 2.5 kids, getting a house with a mortgage and acquiring the hoards of things you can by having money. But when you get down to it - do any of those things guarantee happiness?

Does holding onto Ryan's clothing produce happiness? No. It just makes it harder to let it go. I know that by giving away his clothing it won't bring him back. Keeping his clothing won't bring him back either. His memories will remain tucked in my heart for the rest of my life.


More on these thoughts later...

Seasons and emotions changing

This morning between weight sets at the gym, I couldn't help but let my mind wander and think about how my grief has progressed. What used to trigger deep sadness and utter loss - a lyric, a smell, a remembrance, is now processed a little easier in my head. Sure the sadness is still there and without a doubt I miss Ryan immensely - but the intensity of his sudden death has now lessened in its harshness. My trigger points aren't as sharp and are not as easily pulled. I can sleep alone in my bed without crying myself to sleep every night.

It's amazing to me this transformation happened - though surely not overnight. It's been a long process from the get go and I also recognize I could become a tearful puddle without a moment's notice. Yet I'm learning to accept this new reality and in some way recognize how much strength and perseverance it's taken to get to this point.

Life never prepares you for its uncertainties. All you can do is make the most of each day, as though its your last and live it with no regrets. I knew right away that being angry about Ryan's death would not benefit me in any way - so I avoided it. And now I can look back on the last year or so and know that my healing was productive and true to my spirit.

So as we approach the shorter days and the longer nights, the colder weather and ski season, I'm a little more prepared for what lies ahead and creating new memories. Holidays shouldn't be as dreaded, but looked as an opportunity to make new traditions. I know, without a doubt, I'll think about Ryan and his endless spirit for adventure and fun while making turns in the powder this winter. So if you hear me hooping and hollering like a mad woman down the hill, please realize I'm doing so for the two of us.