Tuesday, October 20

Off-Kilter

I had a disturbing dream last night, or sometime this morning. In my dream, Ammon was alive and well. I knew, somehow, that I had just imagined being widowed, but I was the only one who remembered it. Ammon had no sense the turmoil that my heart had endured, but he was alive. Strangely, I felt no joy at his sudden presence in my life. My heart didn't lift on seeing him, or hearing his voice--in fact, I was filled with terror. He wanted to go ride his motorcycle. He was trying to tell me goodbye, and he was going to run a quick errand. He wasn't expecting to be gone long, and I knew he wasn't planning on wearing his helmet. In my dream, I was horrified. My throat closed up with fear, and I remembered-all too well-the agony that I had endured when I imagined that I was widowed. I knew beyond a doubt that if he climbed on that motorcycle without a helmet, that my imagination would become reality and I would have to endure the agony of losing him a second time. I pleaded with him. I was completely hysterical, beyond all reason, screaming and crying-begging him to please, just wear his helmet.

I'm pretty sure he agreed, if only to placate me. In victory, though, instead of feeling relief-I felt an even greater sense of impending doom. Have any of you ever seen the movie "Final Destination"? Ammon and I watched it together many years ago. The basic plot is a group of high school students that are scheduled to fly to Paris for an educational trip, only to have the plane suffer a tragic accident moments after takeoff. One of the students, a male, has a flash-forward of this accident while sitting on the plane and waiting for departure, and panics. He begins screaming that the plane is going to crash, that everybody is going to die, that they need to get off the plane. He is escorted off the plane, along with a teacher and several other students who respond to the disruption. As the handful of students and adults, including some airline personnel, stand at the gate as the plane takes off, the unthinkable happens: it explodes, killing everybody on board instantly. The students are all horrified, of course, but an even greater danger is waiting for them: because 'death' was cheated out of their lives, it begins coming after them one by one. They each die grisly deaths, in the order that they would have met their demise on the plane had they remained in their seats. Near the end of the movie, it becomes obvious that death will not be cheated--and every life must be accounted for.

It was this sense of impending doom that haunted me in my dream last night. In saving Ammon from a second death in a motorcycle accident, I only managed to cheat death. In my dream, I was certain that it would find him some other way-and I was powerless to stop it. The terror, the agony, the absolute soul-crushing sadness--it has stuck with me throughout the first half of this day. Losing Ammon once was unspeakably difficult. To be threatened with losing him a second time was so awful I can't even begin to formulate sentences to describe the loss.

I know it was just a dream. But it was awful.

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Jungle Jim's was a lot of fun. It was overwhelming and delightful, and I'm grateful to have spent a few hours perusing the aisles with the sister missionaries. It's labeled an 'International Market' for good reason, and specializes in carrying imported food from every imaginable culture--and some that you wouldn't have imagined. The brochure boasted over 6 acres of aisles--and I don't doubt it. It was foodie heaven--if I didn't have a firm grip on the fact that Ammon is in heaven, I would have been looking for him within the aisles. If there is bliss for souls who are departed, my husband would find his there. I'm sorry we never got to experience it before he died--seeing his eyes light up at the 12 dairy cases full of cheese of varying types would have been a lesson in joy. There was an entire aisle devoted to hot sauce. There were 3 aisles devoted to Indian food alone. There were 6 aisles that held only organic food of every type. The produce section was nearly the size of the Kroger I shop at. Next time anybody comes to visit, THIS will be where I take them. It was truly an incredible, one-of-a-kind experience. I would have taken photos, but they aren't allowed in the store.

4 comments:

Mimi Collett said...

Wow. One of my friends has mentioned that I should go to Jungle Jims, and now I know why they said that!

And wow. I'm sorry about your awful dream. :( I hate how real dreams can be when they're awful like that.

Susan said...

Ugh....the dream sounds very stressful.

I'm glad you explained Jungle Jim's. I was not getting it ;) Sounds like a very cool place to visit though.

Sara, Nick, and kids said...

photos really aren't allowed in the store? thats crazy? i wonder why. so wierd.
ive never seen that movie but it sounds good. was that dream the same day you went to jungle jims?

Kaylene said...

I'm so sorry you had such a dream, that must have been terrifying.