Simply danLrene

Work Your Dream

Sometimes At Night I Walk

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Sometimes at night I walk and look, carrying me places that are in my heart. When pain is high and I can not sleep, I walk around on these two feet. Sometimes I go down hallways of my past and look in rooms of my sons when they were little and see their slumbering faces. Such sweet trusting faces given to me and I stand there watching their little chests rise with each breath and stroke their cheeks.

So many places I would love to go and the echo of voices of long ago. I walk down dirt roads and come to old mule farms and see my great-grandfather with his sons training mules for the Calvary. Or I walk to the edge of the river bank and see my grandfather I never met playing with my father and cousins as they ride the boat in the river and my grandfather, who loves the kids, pretends to fall out of the boat to make them all laugh.

Sometimes I walk into the country house where my father was raised and up the stairs to the nursery and see him standing at the window as a child of seven watching his mother and aunts and uncles dressed in black following a horse-drawn wagon with a big wooden box on the back. I realize he has no idea what is happening as no one told him that his father died. Families did that back then, protected the children from death or at least they thought they did. And I realize that this young child’s life is about to be changed forever.

I walk across countries to meet friends I have met online in England, Australia, Canada and other places. Sometimes I sit while Helena cooks at their outside cooking pot and eat from their food…tasting flavors I have never had before.

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I walk to friend’s houses in other states, sit and watch the eagles fly across the water to the Island, walk on the beach, sit on the lanai and feel the breeze and sip coke and talk until dawn not wanting to leave.

Last night I walked down a dusty road in Tennessee and saw my great great great-grandmother named Betsy who was married to a Revolutionary soldier who died in war. She raised five big strapping boys who eventually moved to Tennessee leaving her behind in Virginia. But many years later, this five foot figure in a long black dress was seen walking down the dirt road and the sons looked up and stared and then in wonder realized it was their 85-year-old mother. She had walked with a wagon train from Virginia until she got close enough people could tell her how to find the place where her sons were and she walked the rest of the way alone. She was a strong woman and on her tombstone, it said simply “Betsy Pylant 108 years old”. I think she is part of where my mojo comes from.

Sometimes at night, I walk to places I would love to see, or I roam the streets of Rome with happy abandon. I visit countries and see the sights. I stop at the outdoor cafe and drink cappuccino or teas. I taste of culinary delights and smile in my dreams. I wander through the buildings looking at all the art there to see and walk on the cobblestone streets.

Oh yes, sometimes at night I walk with no power chair, no crutches just my feet on the floor transported by my mind. I think in awe that this must be somewhat what heaven is like with no pain or diseases to hold you back. I dance across meadows, feeling the cool green grass under my bare feet, picking fragrant flowers along the way. Oh yes, sometimes at night I walk.

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Our minds are wonderful things and for me, when pain is high, I depend on mine to transport me to places that are kind and gentle. I tell my son “you know son, when I die, I will still be close by. You may smell my perfume or hear my laugh.” He says “I know, Mom. Just do me one favor and stay out of my bedroom, ok”.  I laugh and we talk on.

Sometimes I walked and meet people I have always wanted to meet such as my Irish Ancestors and my Scottish, English, German, Canadian Ancestors, Steven Segal, Elvis Presley, Lauren Bacall, George Washington, Abraham Lincoln, Betsy Ross, Dr. Phil, Teddy Roosevelt, Marilyn Monroe, Reba McIntyre and the list goes on. I unravel mysteries such as why did great-uncle Billy disappear? I sing songs or act in movies. It does not matter what, I can do it.

Oh, yes, sometimes at night I walk and feel my feet fly down roads. And when my journey is done, I open my eyes once again and see the oxygen hose and hospital bed and I smile because I know that sometimes at night I walk and these things do not hold me down. The mind is powerful if we use it and when I walk at night, the pain is left laying in this bed and I feel, smell, taste and hear all the beautiful places I visit.

February 24, 2016 - Posted by | All, Inspiration | , , , , , ,



    Comment by sher | February 24, 2016 | Reply

    • Thank you. Sometimes I fly on eagles backs too 🙂

      Comment by danLrene ©2011 | February 24, 2016 | Reply

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