WARNING.....CONTENT

Without preamble, here is what is on my mind.

I had a dream last night.  I don’t know where it came from or why or what (really) to make of it.  But it has weighed on my heart and soul all day, and I am (a little) afraid of seeing her again tonight.

In this dream, my wife and I were staying at a resort or vacation home with other family and friends.  My wife and I were upstairs in the master bedroom getting ready for the day when a woman came upstairs and asked for help.  She said she was pregnant and the baby was coming.  My wife delivered the baby there on the bed with no problems.  The mysterious woman said “thank you” and walked out, saying she did not want the baby.  My wife wrapped the baby in a bedsheet and helped the woman downstairs.  

As I came out of the bathroom where I had been hiding (sounds realistic, doesn’t it?) I looked at this newborn baby girl.  She looked back at me and smiled, not just with her mouth, but here eyes as well.  They shone with such love and beauty that I was smitten.  We kept the baby.  We raised her as our own.  And she loved me more than anyone.  She would sit on my lap or cuddle or play, but always with eyes for me.  I loved her so much, which is odd, because I don’t really recall feeling much in any dream I’ve had.

When she was three years old, a dark-haired, dark-eyed precious girl, her birth mother called and said she wanted the child.  We had no legal way to keep her and (in the dream) had to agree to give up our daughter to someone we did not feel was worthy of her.

As I tucked my sweet daughter (for she was mine, truly) into her bed that night and tried to explain that tomorrow she would go with her family she looked at me with those eyes, full of love and trust, and stated, “I don’t want to dad.  I want to stay with my real family.”  I couldn’t stop the tears in my own eyes from spilling out because I couldn’t stand the thought of giving her up.  I explained again, gently, that it was what we had to do.  She just turned her head and said, “Okay dad.”   And in her look, I could read what she felt.  Love, perfect trust, and sorrow at the circumstances that were taking us apart, but above all, obedience to the one she loved. 

I woke up with tears flowing from my eyes this morning.  I can’t exactly recall her face, but I can recall perfectly her expressions, which is odd to me.  And I’ve been trying all day to read into the meaning, if there is one, of the dream in which I had another daughter, and then lost her.

But if I may, I would like to draw a parallel.  2000 years ago, a father gave up his precious son to a world that would not claim him or accept him.  They weren’t worthy of him and gave him away.  But the son was obedient, with perfect trust and love, and completed a marvelous work, even a wonder, the wonder of the entire world.  The first gift given, the only gift we will receive that makes any difference in the long run, has come to us.  

As I write this, with much tenderness of heart, and tears still in my eyes, please express your love to those who are with you and believe me when I wish you, a very Merry Christmas.

It's a kind of magic...addiction

I've been playing Role Playing Games for a long time now.  Not really often, but regularly.  I freely admit that I am kind of a nerd and a little bit of a geek (pushes glasses back on face, snort!) and even though that is somewhat more socially acceptable these days, I still hide it beneath a cool, suave, macho exterior. 
Yet my secret identity has been compromised by my two oldest sons finding out about RPG's and even having been able to sit in while I played with some other geeky nerds.  Now my boys are into it and want to play.  So I did what a good dad should and I started creating and leading adventures for them. 
The sad truth is that I suck at it. 
I'm much better at the playing part, getting into a character and bringing it to life.  That's probably why I enjoyed drama in high school.  But being the game master and coming up with fun, funny, exciting, not-too-challenging adventured with the right amount of scariness and challenge is not a strong point.  Despite my feelings about it, the kids love it.  The younger kids will even sit and listen as we play.  Some of our family quotes have even come from those sessions.  But I just don't always have the time or the mental ability (or the inclination) to spend an hour or two coming up with the adventure and then running a 2-3 hour session. 
Enter Magic:  The Gathering.  Me, the wife, and the kids and I went to a nearby "big city" and stopped at a bookstore.  We found a huge selection of this game, and it's components, there.  I had heard of it but never had any experience with it.  My wife expressed an interest in it so we started chatting with the sales clerk.  He was obviously very knowledgeable about it and even hooked us up with some free stuff.  I bought a core set and we all went home that night and broke it out.  Turns out this stuff is like heroin!  I was back to the shop a couple days later and bought four more core sets.  Don't ask me how much it cost.
But it's pretty awesome.  It is similar enough to be like an RPG, the kids picked up the rules way faster than I did, they play all the time now and no two games turn out the same.  
Admittedly, my wife and I (and the kids by default) love to play games.  Yet this game is a great in-between game for the boys when Dad is too tired or busy to set up an RPG adventure.  We'll still play, but they can bust out their decks of cards and play without having to wait for me in the interim. 
And I have a new addiction.  The only brake on it is the fact that there are several other purchases that take precedence right now.  Older addictions get priority.

Whirlwind

It's a heavy day today.  Tough times at work with things up in the air.  One best friend is going through a hard time and is going to court tomorrow for a divorce and custody hearing.  My friend Brody (the ranger shot in Moab) was downgraded from Serious to Critical condition today.  He's fighting infections and struggling.  But I can't do anything.  I feel like I am in the eye of the storm and watching my friends getting beaten down by the wind and I'm helpless.  What do you do?  Pray?   Get mad?  Cut them loose?  Curse?  Pray harder?  I don't know.  But you can't give up on them.  You still hope and grieve and struggle for them.  There's no magic wand or button or word that will fix everything.  You just continue on and hope they do too. 
And it's the holiday season.  People need a little help.  I've seen a bunch of suggestions out there.  Send a card to a wounded soldier.  Buy a gift and donate it to someone who needs it.  Send a plate of goodies somewhere.  Smile.  Help.  Lift.  Stand.  That's the only remedy I've found that will always work, will always make me feel better.  Because now someone else feels better too. 
In a whirlwind, what goes around, definitely comes around.