Relative Something

*this* John W. Hays' take on things and experiences

Posts Tagged ‘sister

Powerful Hug

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It was in a dream, but not all dreams are equal. It was a physical hug that my brain perceived as a more tactile reality than any dream I’d ever experienced. Sometimes, dreams feel so real that waking from them results in a confusing reconciliation of the conscious world from the dream world.

“Did that just happen?”

“Where am I? What day is it?”

It was the kind of dream where my next reaction was that I needed to talk about it as soon as possible before it was gone; before I couldn’t remember it anymore.

Shouting, “Cyndie!?”

My first perception was that it started with my seeing a photograph of a youngster and older siblings sitting on the railing outside the back door of our Cedar Ridge Road house in Eden Prairie where my family lived in the 1970s. That was a railing that would not have actually supported us in the way depicted in this dreamed photograph.

I strained to clarify whether the kid was me or my little brother. The kid had just been given a fresh haircut and it appeared to be a bizarre customization of a mohawk. The front hairline –multiple steps of a hairline, actually– (how dream-typically unreal) was visible where it had been buzzed like a sheered sheep.

When trying to intensify my observance of the kids’ face, it morphed to defy clarification, so I decided it was my brother since I don’t recall ever getting a haircut like that one.

I looked up from the photo to pass it around to my siblings in the room, hoping someone else would be able to provide clarity and found myself looking into the face of my sister, Linda, who I haven’t seen in real life since she died back in 1997. What a shock!

Reaching out in disbelief, I touched her and found she was actually there and discovering that, embraced her in a bearhug of a hug, crying emotionally over the experience of having her in my arms once again.

In my real life of late, I am not aware of any particular triggers that would have refreshed memories of Linda in my mind, so this visit felt extremely out of the blue.

As amazing as that part of the dream was, it became additionally intriguing with the following.

After that powerful hug, the “dream me” moved into another room to process the experience and in that space, two figures moved past me to walk through a door to outside the house. It was Cyndie’s deceased father, Fred, and a young version of her living brother, Steve.

As he passed by me, I told Fred that I had just experienced being able to physically hug my dead sister, Linda, and he acknowledged my words with something of a knowing smirk as he continued on out the door. In my thoughts, I marveled that he knew exactly what was going on, while I was grappling with the unbelievable amazement I was experiencing.

That hug was a powerful and priceless experience with a loved one who has passed away.

The whole dream was almost too deep for me to decipher. It started in my unconscious and, beyond sharing it here, I am happy to let it continue to simmer and steep in my unconscious for me to absorb with time.

Feeling a lot of love this morning for loved ones who have passed during my lifetime.

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Written by johnwhays

November 21, 2021 at 11:27 am

March 11th

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I had forgotten the significance of March 11, until one of my sisters emailed a note that our sister, Linda, would have turned 64 this year if she were still alive.

JohnHSGraduationLindaI have a precious picture of Linda standing with me at my high school graduation. The event was not a significant achievement in my family, and as such, treated as more of a formality. I was the 5th of 6 kids. By the time I reached the milestone which marks the completion of high school, it had already been done enough times in my family that it was old hat.
It surprised and thrilled me that Linda chose to attend. I think I recall my mom being there, but have no memory of anyone else from my family. Or, if they were there, they apparently didn’t hang around long enough to pose for a picture at the brief social mixing after the ceremony, and prior to us graduates being whisked off to a YMCA for an all-night party.
I had no idea back then that global climate would begin to change significantly in my life time, or that the processed food industry would discover a “bliss point” of added sweetener which they could use to alter virtually EVERYTHING they sell in order to increase consumption of their products.
I knew I didn’t want to go to college, because I had no idea what I wanted to study and was far too frugal to find a way to spend so much money on something so many others were doing “just because.”
I got a job in a record store, working full-time while living at home with my parents, saving my money for what might come next. Eventually, I chose a technical education, focusing on the electronics of the recording industry, because I didn’t have confidence in my ability to make a starving artist’s living off my songwriting or performing.
The focused education of the electronics tech school aligned surprising well with my way of thinking and opened up a new avenue for living wage earning potential in the manufacturing industry.
Many years down that road, I saw some similarities in the experiences of my sister, Linda, and her work at that time in the paper industry. We developed some common language of industrial production operations.
Then she developed leukemia. As a direct blood-type match, I became a stem cell donor for a brand new exploration into stem cells instead of bone marrow transplant. Days before the procedure, I got shots of a bone growth hormone to boost my production of cells to be harvested. That was weird.
Doctors told me it might make me feel achy, like having the flu. It was unlike any achiness I had experienced before. Instead of pain in my joints, it was the center mass of my largest bones that gnawed at me. I had never in my life felt sensations from my sternum, but that happens to be a significant bone mass, and mine hurt very noticeably.
Linda lived almost a year after the transplant, growing hair back that was more wavy than before. Everyone decided it came from me. When her white-cell count skyrocketed again, she chose to let nature take its course and we all supported her journey to an end.
I would love to have had her presence on Cyndie’s and my journey to the rural country with our horses, dog, and cat. I know how much she would have reveled in it, and that would have thrilled me like the day she came to my graduation ceremony.
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Written by johnwhays

March 12, 2016 at 7:00 am