AND so it is: we have come to an epiphany.
Yesterday, in our usual mad dash for the door in the morning rush, I brushed up against the doorframe to the bedroom and caught the sleeve of my sweater on an outcropped nail. I cried out in frustration, then called out to B. "Is there a hammer out there still?" And being B, he was there in a jif, bearing the hammer and correcting the offending nail. We went on about our day with nary a word more about it.
Later that evening, after a particularly frustrating day with the daughter, we were out in the garage... the 'inner sanctum'... where B goes to think and smoke and listen to NPR. I must confess, I come to the garage for comfort, for the sanctuary of his smile and his sanity. I was direly in need of it last night. Over her 16 years of practice, the daughter has cultivated the fine art of mental manipulation, learning from my ex, the master. She now knows how to keep me off balance whenever it suits her, to keep her out of trouble. "Am I insane?" I pleaded to B. "The ex would say I was."
This angered him. I saw it right away, his blue eyes flashing dangerously.
I plunged on, thinking to absolve myself. I had been stewing about the morning's events, feeling bad about how I'd hollered out for him to save me from the nail, without even thinking that he might have been in the middle of something of his own. Without even trying to fix it myself. I had called for him, and phrased it in a way that had always been labeled "manipulation" by the ex. I tried to explain this to him, that I was sorry if I'd made him feel manipulated, that I'd only been asking if the hammer was handy, but it seemed that my explanations only made things worse. He was incensed by what I was saying, and I was somewhat confused.
And finally I got what he was trying to tell me. He hadn't felt manipulated, because he wasn't like all those other men who had come before him. He was offended, in fact, that I would think he would be. He tried to explain to me that his love for me came with no strings... that he was truly my partner, and that that's what partners do. Including riding to the rescue with a hammer when need be.
I told him (and I think he finally understood) that it would probably be a while before these things would quit happening. That I had no idea what normal WAS, because I'd never known normal. And that if he was patient, I could learn. But until then, I will probably keep questioning reality... because I truly don't know if what *I* think is normal, is.
He said that the way he can see it, he has been the only man who has loved me unconditionally since I was a little girl... since my Grandpa, who believed with all his heart that I could do no wrong. Even when everyone else ceased to love me, there was always him. And it brought tears to my eyes. I felt driven straight to my knees. Because it's true. It's why I have such a sense of deja vu... why it has been so easy with B. "You remind me so much of him" I whispered.
And so there it is. It's not a daddy complex. My daddy never loved me, never wanted me around. And God knows I wasn't perfect enough for my mother. But B, beautiful, beloved B, stands there before me, with all of the honor, the love, the wisdom, the acceptance, of my Grandpa, lost to me these many years. And I have the chance to do it all over again; to honor this man and the man that came before him, in the manner they deserve.
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Last night I woke in the middle of the night, roused by B getting up, or perhaps from the dream. I cried out, and his hands were there. "What is it?" he whispered.
"Bears..." I moaned, rolling deep into that warm embrace, pressing my face to his soft shoulder.
In the dream I am in a clearing by a house, with my little dog. We are standing, when suddenly I become aware that it isn't safe here. I look to my left, and there is a bear coming out of the bushes. I freeze, hoping that he hasn't seen us, but my little dog begins barking, and the bear comes towards us. I look to the right, to escape, but there is another one, coming for us as well. I decide to go up, into the trees behind us, but there is another bear, directly overhead. I stand still, in dread, dismay and acceptance, knowing that there is no escape from my fate.
And suddenly there are hands on me, pulling me back.
"It's okay, M. I will make those old bears go away." And I am deep in the safety of those arms, and it is well, and it is good.
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Bear
To dream that you are being pursued or attacked by a bear, denotes aggression, overwhelming obstacles and competition. You may find yourself in a threatening situation. Alternatively, bears symbolize the cycle of life and death and renewal. It may signal of period of introspection and thinking. The dream may also be a pun on "bare". Perhaps you need to bare your soul and let everything out into the open.
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