Sunday Scribblings "Dreams"
In ninety-one my mom died. I had many vivid dreams while she was dying. Every dream I was in a large house by a beach,trying to escape the house, to no avail. Every door or window I tried was locked tight. Two weeks before mom died I dreamt that a man was chasing me with a knife; I had finally escaped the house. I was holding Peppers hand as I ran, guiding her along the beach towards the water. Mom died, I didn’t dream for two years. At least I couldn’t recall my dreams. Then in July of ninety-three I had a vivid snake dream, it was terrifying.
The next year I accompanied a two female physicians and a friend to a dream seminar. We had dinner before the lecture; I shared my dreams with the ladies. After the very interesting seminar, the girls encouraged me to inquire about my dreams. I approached the two alternating lines, when it got to my turn I faced a lady who was conveying her snake dream to the speaker. I turned and looked at the physician in shock. The lady was discussing my dream verbatim. The lecturer, his name I don’t recall, warned her that she would be coming up against the patriarchy. I didn’t bother to elaborate my dream and instead relinquished my turn to the physician behind me.
Sure enough two years later I came up against the patriarchy like never imagined. I fought for my child’s rights, and my own. It was a horrific two years, of trying to get males to recognize I was in danger. I was always taught that if you told the truth and lived right, justice would prevail. Instead I learned that the best liar wins. I now have more faith in Karma and the law of the universe than the justice system.
Any woman of authority I encountered understood me, assisting to find me resolve. Eventually, after an accumulating loads of proof, I was finally understood by two very kind male police officers. The three before them were unwilling to do the paper work. I heard later from a victim services advocate that the judge in my case actually doubted himself. Male doctors, lawyers, court authorities were challenged as I defended my daughter’s right to be heard. Eventually, after much persistence, patriarchal dissention had lifted, many even came to my aid, restoring my faith in males!
Just a side note, my daughter was the shyest little person. She only shared her thoughts with me. During that time I was unable to direct her about what to say, but guided her to make her wishes known the best way could. It was difficult to send my shy young child into a room alone with authority figures armed with only the words “ speak your mind” She finally spoke up, authorities were so impressed at how articulate and mature she was at ten. From that day on, my daughter opened up, and spoke more readily. . Today that grown up woman is a wheeler dealer lady of strength and character who lets everyone know what she expects and what she needs! A couple of years ago I bumped into a counselor who I hadn’t seen for over nine years. She informed me that my ten year old taught her things that are still incorporated in her classes today!