Ok, let’s call it a donkey. And it was in a dream so it wasn’t real anyway.
Dreams tend to be highly personal, but I recently had one that I thought many of you in similar circumstances would understand.
It went something like this…
My husband and I are in an open wagon pulled by a donkey. One of those old-fashioned ones you imagine Pa must have driven during the days of Little House on the Prairie.
Tom’s driving. I’m sitting next to him. We’re going to see one of his friends. It’s their anniversary or birthday or some such occasion. I’m looking at the sky, thinking it’s going to rain and wondering why we didn’t take the van.
We arrive, the donkey gets tied up and Tom promptly disappears. Poof. He’s gone. It’s just me and the jackass.
I start sneaking through a house, trying to finish whatever surprise Tom had planned for his friend. And then, of course, it starts to rain. I give up on whatever Tom had planned and want to go home. The donkey is ecstatic to see me. He’s jumping around, I’m trying to calm him and the last thing I remember is looking at all the straps on the bridle in my hand and thinking, “I have no idea what I’m doing.”
Most of us probably don’t have real donkeys to contend with, but we probably do have things left behind after our husband/wife/partner died. Things we don’t understand.
My donkeys include a flooded basement, teen boys and ongoing car problems. Yours may be bills to pay, retirement plans to change or an RV to maintain.
Everyone has different issues, but the common thread is that we started something with another person and then poof. That person’s disappears, and we’re left alone to figure out what to do next.
It’s not a nice place to find yourself.
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