For a bit of background, my dad died several years back. When he did, he and I had not spoken in many many years. For my part, I had reached a point where I was no longer angry with him, he was just bad for my life and mental health and I had to walk away and, since I was no longer of use to him, he let me. He was a broken and damaging man and that was a tragedy, but I could no longer allow that tragedy to damage me and mine.
Weeks later I awoke in the middle of the night stunned. I sat up in my bed trying to grasp what had happened- to frame it in a way I could understand, because in all honesty, it felt beyond words. It was, I guess, a dream. I cannot give you the details because I can’t put words to them. To be honest I am not sure there was an actual dream in the conventional sense. I do not remember characters or a storyline, not even one of those impossible to follow, but makes total sense at the time, surrealistic dreams.
The best I can describe is this: I had a sense of colors. Swirling or still, I do not know. But colors that I could almost run my hands through like water- almost- and emotions and wordless communication. I awoke with a feeling wrapped around and through me that I have never in my life felt before. I could not at first put words to it and the ones I have found are still inadequate today. I also knew without any doubt that this was NOT generated from inside of me. That whatever this was came from somewhere else.
Again, a little background; I do not come from a loving family. There were no “I love you’s” or hugs and kisses. Physical contact was NEVER a good thing. Love that I have felt towards others was never a quiet thing for me or gentle. Love I feel is ferocious. I would kill or die for my children. My husband, I had practically worshipped and again, would have removed the face of anyone who hurt him. The quiet gentle comfort of a hug was something I have only learned in about the last 10 years of my life. And while it was kind if like that feeling, it does not come even close to the comfort that wrapped me that night.
I sat in my bed trying to understand, and the very best I can tell you is this:
Without words or pictures something told me, “It is all good.” ALL of it. Everything. And that it would BE all good. That all was right in the world and in all unseeable and unknowable places. That my father in particular was okay…. No, not okay…. that whatever he was, wherever he was, or even not existing, it was right. It was as it should be and I did not need to grieve. That I too was where I needed to be. I think others might describe it as an overwhelming sense of love. I do not know because this is not a feeling I think I really understand, but there it was.