Two years ago we marked a passage. Gathered with the ones closest to us, and celebrated Love.
I rarely share photos of myself or my family on the Archives. But today, I want to express my gratitude with the world.
I am so thankful for the Bohemian. A rare, gem-of-a-man. A true treasure. Such a gift to Jeb and I…
photo courtesy of Amy Vanderhoop
photo courtesy of Sara Wall Photographyphoto courtesy of Amy Vanderhoopphoto courtesy of Sara Wall Photographyphoto courtesy of Amy Vanderhoopphoto courtesy of Sara Wall Photographyphoto courtesy of Sara Wall Photography
My unconscious self must be trying to elevate me from the ground-down stasis of my current physical challenge. The challenge being this humbling pinched nerve in my hip (detailed in yesterday’s post).
Last night in my dreams, I was ready for lift-off. The fire was lit, and I was in the basket of a hot air balloon, on the verge of launching billowing, striped colors to the sky.
courtesy of Beverly and Pack
It’s always good to get fresh perspectives.
Like Jeb’s, who was the one to point out my dreams. Not last night’s, but the one I had 34 years ago, back in second grade.
He and I were looking through my little “School Days” scrapbook. The one made for holding keepsakes from kindergarten through graduation. Throughout my time in school, I faithfully completed every year, inserting report cards and special awards. I filled out each year’s form, writing in the spaces about friends, favorite sports, and hobbies.
In second grade, “Additional Information” contained a wish.
Jeb turned the page to third grade.
“Hey, the next year you wrote: ‘I love…Gerardo?…I want to ride in a hot air balloon with him.’ Who’s Gerardo?”
“Ah,right. He was a boy in my class from Mexico, who didn’t speak much English. He was really quiet, but I liked him.”
“You wanted to ride in a hot air balloon for two years in a row, Mom.”
“And I haven’t yet.”
So to wake this morning with dreamtime memories of lift off, makes me think it’s time this little fantasy comes true.
No hot air balloons in Hawaii. But how about the Czech Republic?
Our family is slowly planning a summer trip back to the Bohemian’s homeland. A quick online search this morning reveals a company in Prague that offers hot air balloon rides, year-round. You can float above ancient castles, and see a bird’s eye view of the countryside and forests.
Maybe no Gerardo (though I hope he is well, wherever he may be). But a hot air balloon with my two other dreams-come-true: my son and my husband? Airborne in Europe? Well, that’s more than I could have imagined when I was seven.
“Trappings and charm wear off… Let people see you. They see your upper arms are beautiful, soft and clean and warm, and then they will see this about their own, some of the time. It’s called having friends, choosing each other, getting found, being fished out of the rubble. It blows you away, how this wonderful event ever happened — me in your life, you in mine.
Two parts fit together. This hadn’t occurred all that often, but now that it does, it’s the wildest experience. It could almost make a believer out of you. Of course, life will randomly go to hell every so often, too. Cold winds arrive and prick you: the rain falls down your neck: darkness comes. But now there are two of you: Holy Moly.”