In the wee hours of the morning I found myself dreaming of playing on the beach with my family, a warm and delicious to the senses fantasy. We strolled along the waters edge until we found ourselves amongst a group of others in a walled off area of the water. The other swimmers were enjoying themselves so we stayed but suddenly large swells of ocean were coming toward us! The people around us squealed in delight and Justin held my hand as if to say "it's safe, it's fun" but the water rose high and broke over our heads. For a moment we were under the water but in a pocket of air against the wall and with a child in each of our arms we knew when to swim up back to our precious oxygen. It was fun and we played this little ocean peek-a-boo game again and again.
Until I woke at 6:19 am gasping for air. Tears streaming down my face, retching in gag, there was something (sheet fuzz?) in my lungs and it hurt! I felt like I was dying, partly because of the stark contrast to the peaceful ease I was awoken from. I thought to myself "be quiet, everyone is sleeping! but for the love get this thing out of your lungs, you can't die like this - death by sheet fuzz particle!". So I trudged downstairs, got some water, coughed a bit, and slowly made my way back to bed. I couldn't get back to sleep and definitely couldn't get back to that dream but I laid in the quiet and found my peace again. My throat still hurt a bit but the pain was slowing and my thoughts were relaxed enough to find the happiness between that unrealistic dream and the agony of waking in pain. I was even able to get a little more sleep before my day began.
A metaphor for the last couple years of my life? I'll say. Sometimes blog posts write themselves, sometimes at 6 am. It's okay if you're scratching your head. This blog has been for me all along. But I'm happy to share because, well, that's just who I am.