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Rescue Boats

 


I stood in a dark room in the bottom of a sinking ship.  I felt the ship listing, heard water pouring into the openings.  I glanced to my left and noticed a doorway.  Just outside the doorway was a staircase.  Water came gushing down the stairs, roaring in anger as it tried to consume the ship.  

I have to get to a higher place on the ship, I thought as I scrambled toward the doorway.

I fought my way up the staircase against the flood of water pummeling down on me.  One step, then another, water heavy on me, trying with all its might to push me down to the bottom of the ship.  I struggled, forcing my legs to move.  Another step up.  More water threatening to take me back down.  Another step, then another, and another.  Finally, slowly, I managed to reach the top of the staircase.  The staircase opened onto the top deck of the ship.  I rushed to the railing and looked out at the sea, wondering how I was going to survive.

There, in the water, in every direction, as far as I could see, were rescue boats.  They were in all shapes and sizes, waiting calmly, patiently, quietly.  The water was as flat as a mirror, and the boats hovered all around my sinking ship.  They were all there for me.  Every single one of them was there to rescue me.  

I woke up, tears flowing down my cheeks.  I lay in bed, motionless, reliving the dream.  The sinking ship, the rescue boats.  Tears continued to fall.  Every night before I go to sleep, I ask Scott to visit me in my dreams.  He heard me.  "Thank you," I whispered into the dark room.

I grabbed my phone, texted Shannon, and told him the dream.

I'm no dream expert, he replied. But seems like a very clear message.

Yes.  Yes, it does.  

I only have vague memories of THAT DAY, but one memory is clear in my head.  The paramedics had stopped working on Scott.  They were packing up their gear, and one of the women looked at me.

"Do you have someone you can call to come be with you?" she asked softly.

I stared at her, Despair and Infinite Sadness smothering me in darkness.

"Do you have someone you can call?" she asked again.

I nodded.

"Good," she said gently.  "A lot of people don't."  She placed her hand on my shoulder, then walked out of the room.

Now, in the light of day, I can envision each one of those rescue boats from my dream being driven by all the people who have stepped up to help rescue me.  Whether it is a text message, a card, a phone call, a food delivery, a hug, a dinner, a visit to the pond, a chat on the back deck, or any number of different things, every single gesture has been another rescue boat for me.  

Losing Scott is the single worst thing that has ever happened to me.  My ship is sinking, with me trapped in the basement.  And then, with every ounce of strength I have, I put one foot in front of the other, and make my way slowly, slowly, slowly up to the top deck and see all the people there to support me.  I often feel lonely, but I know I am not alone.  I often wonder how I am going to do this, and then a text pops up asking if I need anything or if I want to grab dinner or get together.  Infinite Sadness and Despair suffocate me, and then I receive a big bear hug from a dear friend.  Gratitude arrives again and again.

I see you, all of you, piloting the rescue boats.  Thank you is not a big enough phrase, but it's all I can offer.  Thank you.

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