Traveller’s assurance

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Last night my daddy visited me in a dream. He didn’t merely appear, he spent time with me — that is, if one can be said to spend time in a dream. Dreams are a mystery. Sometimes, they are a gift. The dream I’m about to describe was certainly a gift to me — a remembered moment from a place beyond time, an encounter I’ll think about and treasure always….

In the dream I was driving alone in the country on a scenic but unfamiliar two-lane road. Just ahead, an oncoming car slowed as it approached. The driver appeared to know me, and raised a hand in greeting. I slowed down, too, but bright sun concealed the driver’s identity. Pulling closer, I suddenly saw that it was Daddy. We pulled over and stepped out to visit. We didn’t rush into one another’s arms in tearful reunion. Instead, we greeted one other with a simple hug and a smile, as if we spent every day together, as if he had never died. This was no reunion, it was a continuation. Nothing had changed. And indeed, he was just the same as always: his affable grin, clever remarks, jovial laugh, and upbeat manner exuded a sense of calm and well-being. We chatted until evening shadows deepened. Night was falling, and we both knew it was time to go. As we climbed back in our cars, Daddy waved a cheery farewell and drove off. In my rearview mirror, his taillights receded, converged, then faded from sight. I had a profound awareness in the dream that I was moving forward and that Daddy was moving away…. I woke to the familiar pang of missing him so.

I will keep moving forward into the future, even though I do not know the way. As I pass the mile markers of my life’s journey, I know one thing for certain: I’ll carry the memory of this dream with me. The interpretation and significance of any dream is ultimately up to the dreamer. I choose to think that Daddy appeared to let me know he’s nearby and to remind me that there is no road I can travel where his warmth and love can’t find me. I trust this message with my whole heart, and from now on, I’m going to call it my traveller’s assurance.

Thank you, Daddy, love you. I’ll be seeing you~

a treasure in thread

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Once upon a late summer afternoon, just before the new school year began, my youngest daughter, all of age 9, was bored. She asked if I might help her learn to cross stitch, and I was delighted to comply. First, I let her sift through my charts until she found a pattern she liked. Next, I gave her a slender tapestry needle, some sturdy Aida fabric stretched in a small hoop, and a few skeins of DMC floss. She proved to be a quick learner, and soon she was happily stitching away. I can see her still in mind’s eye, perched there on the living room loveseat, glancing up from her embroidery with a valiant, “Look what I can do!” grin.

When her lovely star was complete, she felt satisfied. She set her hoop aside and scampered off to play. School started. She stashed her hoop in a drawer.

Leaves turned scarlet, snowflakes fell, violets unfurled. Soon, it would be Mother’s Day, and she knew just what she’d do. She unearthed some white floss, took up her needle, and carefully stitched three small letters into the fabric. She paused, surveyed the letters, then underscored them with one final, affirming stitch. There. Now her gift was ready.

On Mother’s Day when I unwrapped her small offering, I wrapped her up in a huge hug. It was a perfect gift: a moment of captured time to hold in my hand and cherish forever, a daughter’s love made visible, a treasure in thread.