I dreamt that Whitney (see previous post) came back to hang out with us. “Us” being her old friends who miss her dearly. She said, “What did you expect? That I’d just leave you? Of course I wouldn’t do that.” In my dream she had her long blond dreads and was full faced with a solid body, like when she first came home from UC Santa Cruz. I remember thinking that I didn’t know silky blond hair could be made into dreads.
She wasn’t emaciated from not being able to eat. Her hands didn’t shake from medication. She was totally with us, completely present and joyful. She was clear-headed with no need for painkillers that made her forget when we left her messages or had an hour long conversation.
I don’t remember that we did anything adventurous in my dream. We all just hung out and laughed, happy to be together.
I woke up and felt none of the painful guilt for not having talked to Whitney before she died. I just felt I’d had a chance to see her and be with her and that she knew we loved her.
Lately I’ve found myself thinking, “What would Whitney do?” If she could smile, laugh and live each day with hope, I should be able to overcome anything and always think positively. I shouldn’t just give someone homeless money. I should stop and speak to them and help them feel visible and important. That’s what she used to do.
Anyway, in the spirit of living each day as it is and taking the good… here is my latest column:
The Ups and Downs of Pesach Stress