Dream #1, first night.

Two nights now, I have had confusing dreams, ever since my father went in to the hospital. On the night he entered the hospitals emergency ward, I endured hours with him in pain, but left for my home to rest. I immediately went to my chair and fell asleep and dreamt; I was home in Ontario, Canada. Down the street from the house I grew up in at Robinson Lake, actually on the lake, in a small boat drifting. I began a searching of memories that seemed to play-out like a video. I looked for old trees I've climbed as a kid across the lake, for the sand dunes I hid between, shivering, naked and covered in course sand glinting, stuck on my toes. Memories of my secret places. Suddenly, while I sorted through these memories, sences of recall, it became very cold and such a fog of calm storms fought me. Without rain and without wind the waters rose and pushed me further out, until I could not see the side I was headed to, nor the side I started from. I saw the long weeds that swept form the bottom of the lake then laid on top of the angry, grey waters. The weeds that I feared, those weeds when I was young and with friends who and I were always trying to avoid, swimming just before the lands of the weeds. In as they(weeds) tried to wrap and slide around my legs and body. Those weeds grew each year growing closer, reaching me at times and sending shivers about in imaginary thoughts of water snakes and unknown, those spined, curly-edge, writhing, slimmy weeds. As the storm circled around my bout I had no paddles, no motor, no way of getting myself back to the shore where I started from. I reached forward and pulled the heavy water along the sides of the boat, I felt with every pull of water those long weeds, the burn of fright on my finger tips, the thought of cuts from the weeds. Every time I reached into the water the weeds held my arms and tightened with every new reach forward, the closer I pulled the water to me, the more I tangled in the weeds from my past, but the clearer the rocks of shore became. I began to feel bigger and stronger, as though every stroke of fear cleared by fight. I ripped up the grey, green ribbed water and seemed to become larger and larger, so large that when I reached the rocks on shore, I reached down and lifted the boat out of the water like a toy in one shaking, wet, tired hand. I stood on the shore and looked back at that past and thought to myself, maybe I really do not miss this place at all.

Dream #2, second night.

This morning I expected rain, the weather station told us "after such a hot weekend we will get rain from day time heating, but its wonderful this morning, sunny, and, gentle winds. My father who is in the hospital recovering from a double hip surgeries, is doing better than expected. I feel such peace from my worries, a little tired and some what confused about my dreams the last two nights. In my second dream, I am answering questions on a computer for a license renewal. As I guided the mouse pointer over the questions, that were laid out on the dirty concrete floor(the floor was the computer monitor), as the mouse pointer moved over the answers, laid out before me, large and spread out over a considerable amount of floor space. The answers seemed life sized. I continued on clicking, rightly on the ones I understood and stared prematurely from my scooter at others I deemed unresolved. As I turned around to answer the questions behind me, I saw rows and rows of mountain bikes, suddenly the room filled with laughter and some of the participants closest to me, jostled for position to exclaim "surprise!" I figured out that the test was for, bike riders, and, that I had unknowingly taken part in some sort of trick. It was hard for me to comprehend, because I can not ride a mountain bike again, I know I can still drive a car, but nothing like a bicycle. At that moment this wonderful Lady moved up, in her wheelchair beside me and started talking to me about...? I could not hear her, I kept looking at her face, her bright happy eyes and thought how pretty she was, but I could not hear her. All the laughter and the movement of the people were all I could understand, and, only understand, without clearly listening. Both dreams have given me nothing, I expected, hoped, to get what I set out to gain, but ended up empty and confused.

I love them both the same.

Its been a tough few days this past weekend, my father fell and broke both his hips. Today, because of his age they operated with local anesthesia, instead of putting him completely under for the steel plate and bolts. My father has always had this way of taking pain, not chronic pain, but acute pain and deal with it. At 80 yrs of age, he is showing emotions he never had shown before and cries easily. He does not just start crying, per say, but now, when he remembers stories and recounts past, young memories, he tears up quite proudly, like a man should, in my humble opinion. He was out of surgery in a couple of hours worth of it this morning and seems remarkably well for it. Though he was quite, anxious and shaking a lot, he said he was in so much pain. I think on the weekend he may of stood up too quickly, not letting his oxygen time to make it to his brain and for a split second passed out, only to find himself on the floor. He phoned my sister, crying, seemingly in shock and maybe apprehensive if he would get a hold of her or not. I got the call from my mother, 35 yrs divorced, but a caring, scarred, forgiving gift to us all, explaining what happened and telling me she is on her way to take me to the hospital an hour after he arrived in emergency. I cry alone, during movies, during the site of tears or emotions, but am usually very strong in the faces of my gathering family. I found myself reassuring everyone that he will be ok, and, he will pull through, nicely. To-day, I felt such relief, because he has done well, and, clearly spoke to me of the long road back to walking again. My father lives with my sister, granddaughter and little Doda, his miniature, paper-white poodle. My sister has taped Doda's picture to his handle grip above him and he noticed it immediately. Although my mom and dad are divorced, for ever it seems, they are very civil infront of us kids, all 7 of us and 9 grandchildren, my mom is the one who has held us gently together, no one else can take credit for that. My mom is the Christian strength and direction, my father is the resolve and spirit. I am closer to my mom than my dad, but love them both the same.