It has been such a hard winter. Not only have I had three surgeries but I also lost my dad. The most recent surgery has thrown me a curveball because I cannot use my usual coping strategies. I cannot ride a bike, I cannot snowshoe hike, and I cannot even type. I have to constantly be in an arm sling, and I must absolutely avoid damage to my shoulder. Even typing is super hard because I can only use my left hand. I am dictating this post but, to be honest, dictation does not work all that well. But I have a story that I want to share with you.
The other night while I was sleeping, our black dog visited me in a dream. It was spring time, and the meadow outside our house was verdant green. A thick fog was hovering above the meadow, obscuring everything except the glow of the green grass. Then the fog parted, and our Black Dog was standing in the meadow gazing at me. He was young and physically perfect, his black fur glistening in the fog. He gazed at me with his warm brown eyes, and I was enveloped in a feeling of warmth and peace. We stood suspended in time looking at each other. Then, I started to walk towards him. Within a few steps, the fog closed around him, and I could not see him anymore.
I woke up feeling happy and so lucky to have had our black dog visit me as I slept. He is with me all the time.