August 17, 2010
I had a bad dream last night.
My teeth were becoming loose and began falling out one by one. It was a gross reminder of the feelings I had when I was losing my baby teeth as a child. I felt deep emotions of pain, sadness, but most of all loss. As much as I clenched my teeth, there was no escaping the inevitable ending to my dream a dream that has reoccurred every 2-3 months of my life since I was six years old.
Sometimes I loose all my teeth, sometimes they come out one by one. This time, my bottom teeth fell first. I looked in the mirror smiling at an almost toothless face, feeling distressed, powerless and helpless. All of a sudden, I hear a cry. My eyes awake as Christian enters our bedroom crying. At that moment I was relieved.
It was just a dream.
As much as I should expect the dream to arrive every few months, the real-ness’ of the emotions involved in the dream make it so real each and every time. I could never decipher why it re-occurs. Sometimes I think it’s because I fear my mother dying, other times I think it’s because I fear failure. Ultimately, I think it symbolizes life.the inevitable death to life to my life, to my parent’s life to all our lives.
Last week David interrupted me while I was working late on the computer. He grabbed my hand, a blanket and led me to the backyard where we watched the meteor shower occupy our solar system. As I stood amazed as stars shot across the sky, I made small wishes in my heart. One of those wishes was to understand life.
In my early diaries as a child, I would write everlasting life on each page, requesting God to give us a life that would last forever. I feared death, but most of all, I feared my life. I didn’t know why I was born to creation. I didn’t know why I was plagued with such mature thoughts at such a young age. In those early years, that’s when I began writing, when I began understanding the world around me and when I began having dreams of losing my teeth.
As I tend to my young sons every day, I look at them with awe and amazement realizing that they were created inside my womb. In the future, I know they would look towards David and me for answers, for role modeling and for inspiration. As I lay with them, as I often do – especially in the mornings when Christian creeps into our bed I think about the evolution of my life.
While I don’t think my re-occurring dream will ever escape me, I do know that one day, when I peacefully allow each tooth to fall that I’m allowing life to run its course.
I will know in that moment – I’ve reconciled my humanity inside my heart.