It was really windy two nights ago. A cold spell roared in on the wind and the temp dropped so quickly during the day we got snow. Anyway, the wind sounded just like the ocean. The trees blew, the leaves rattled and it sounded like waves rushing in and out. I must have heard the sound in my sleep because I had a dream about the ocean. I have had, throughout my life, a reoccurring dream about a river in the Gila. The rocks are flat and red, sometimes trees, sometimes people, sometimes scrub and sand. It differs from dream to dream but its always the same place. This time the river was the ocean. The kids hadn't been to the ocean in a long time, Keira never. They were afraid of it but I bullied and badgered them into going to dip their feet in the surf. I have Keira and in my arms and the older two run ahead. When we get to the surf, however, the waves are twenty feet high and they go over our head. I struggle and fight to surface knowing that while I can hold my breath for a little time, poor Keira's lungs are much smaller and won't last as long. I fight and fight but to know avail. Then I realize that the fighting isn't getting me anywhere and I relax. In that moment, I am so calm, so happy, I have my baby in my arms and I'm drowning.
That's where the dream ends. It was still predawn at that time and I got up and stood outside. The wind was blowing so hard. I was clueless as to what the dream meant but I realized that it wasn't a scary dream, I didn't wake up crying or afraid. Just calm, thankful for the wind, loving my children.
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