This song — for Lynnie —should need “nothing added”
I will never not cry when I hear it…
The night before my sister, my identical twin sister died, I had an extremely vivid dream about her, rare for its vividness as much as for the fact that I do not remember when I last dreamed about her.
The dream was as follows: I was in a mute state and unable apparently to function as the world would have wanted me to, and I remember Lynnie was there, but not talking to me but to some functionary who wanted her to sign some papers for me essentially taking over my care and becoming in charge of my life. The word dementia was thrown about, and I remember thinking that even if I screamed I could not get it across to her or to anyone that I was NOT in the midst of dementia, but simply caught in some state that made it impossible for me to communicate with them. Much happened that struck me even then as unnecessary because I knew I was conscious but simply did not know how to bridge the gulf to Lynnie and the other person that I was still in there…some time later, I discovered that soya products had been missing from my diet and that once these elements of plant bas3d life were replaced I would be able to come out of my state of apparent suspended animation and live again. Instead, it seemed that no one believed me, or could even hear me say, I’m fine, I’m here, I just had a soya deficiency which is now replenished. I don’t need a Lynnie to take charge or be my conservator.
I woke, Not from a sweat drenched nightmare, but nevertheless feeling uneasy and struck by the first two facts, that I had dreamed extremely vividly, remembered the dream, and that Lynnie played a huge role…I did not think too much about this the rest of the day, until Chip called with news that Lynnie had died, suddenly and unexpectedly, that afternoon. Then I remembered the dream, and how strange it was that she had appeared to me so concretely and vividly just the night before. Was she telling me something?
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(mostly photos from our childhood. )
The opinions expressed are those of the author. You go get your own opinions.
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portraits & figures by an older woman artist, with blue collar roots
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“In India when we meet and part we Often say, ‘Namaste’, which means: I honor the place in you where the entire universe resides; I honor the place in you of love, of light, of truth, of peace. I honor the place within you where if you are in that place in you and I am in that place in me, there is only one of us." ~~Ram Dass~~
My adventures in self-publishing and other gibberish
The opinions expressed are those of the author. You go get your own opinions.
One minute info blogs escaping the faith trap
Kate Greenough's daily drawings
portraits & figures by an older woman artist, with blue collar roots
Apprenez les langues !
Life is too short to be petty-minded
What sense in chaos.
A pause to admire nature's unparalleled beauty.
Strange Anatomy, Awkward Perspectives
Yeah nah...
Thoughts on all things Autism and mental health
Not your third grade paper mache
Smidgens
Life with wings
Artwork, data analysis, and other projects by Jon