The Vision

This weekend was hell for me and migraines. I lost all of Friday, part of Saturday, and Sunday evening. Nothing helped. I just laid in bed and tried to find sleep.

At some point, I dreamed. I call it a dream, because I am still alive. Either that or I had a short near death/death experience where my heart actually stopped and I went to another place. Regardless of what actually happened, I want to share the vision/dream with you because it gave me such comfort and peace, especially since I’ve lost three animals this year and it’s really been hard on me.

I was surrounded by darkness. Complete and total, it surrounded me, but I felt no fear. Gradually, the black gave way to grey, as if I was in a fog that got brighter. I could see nothing through the fog, no shapes, no sounds, nothing to give me an indication of direction or a sense of space.

The fog brightened to a brilliance, bright and shiny, then cleared so I could see in front of me, a grassy area that rose a few feet before leveling off. The grass was lush and green and bordered a stream, which was crystal clear, shallow, and gently gurgling as it passed.

There was a bridge that crossed to another grassy area that appeared to drop out of side, as if once across the bridge, there was a slope down the other side. The light was bright, but seemed to come from everywhere and “just was”, rather than from a single source.

As I stood, I noticed people appearing on the far side, of to the right of the bridge. They smiled at me. The smile shone of love and acceptance, but I felt that they weren’t welcoming me. I saw in the faces my grandfather, and maternal grandparents, a couple aunts, and a high school friend who’d been murdered in her early twenties. Others that I knew in life that have died. They knew me, and I knew them.

A movement on my left. Several dogs crested the slope on the far side and came to sit, watching me. I recognized them and said their names in my head. Brandy and Britt from my childhood. Cinder, Pepper, Nikki, Koko, Sheena, Quilla, Cooter, Bandit, and Boomer. Dogs I had loved and still thought about.

More movement and behind the dogs came horses. Marna, the snotty little grulla pony I had when I was 7 years old. Ricci, the palomino mare that I was stupid to sell in high school. C-Bey, the sweet ancient arab mare that taught me as an adult that old horses don’t have to be skinny. Joy, Heddy, Honey, Dobbs, Jinx, Beau. They all stood watching me.

I knew where I was. There was a moment when I thought, “I am dead”. But the overwhelming response to that thought was “No. Not yet.” It wasn’t a voice, more like a feeling. I wanted to cross the bridge and greet my loved ones. I wanted to kneel in the grass and hold my dogs. I wanted to stand and rub my hand down the silken neck of the horses. Again, the feeling was “Not yet”, and the light began to dim and the fog grew ever thicker, before once again, I was in the darkness.

I opened my eyes and saw my bedroom in the dimming light of the day. I felt no pain, my headache finally gone. I laid there quietly for several minutes remembering the sight of my animals and loved ones, so close, yet so far away across the stream. Just out of reach, but always close to my heart.

One thing about this that I have noted, I was most concerned about being with my animals. I am left feeling grateful and blessed to have been given this gift, this vision. To see something that leaves me nostalgic and yearning, yet brings me comfort and peace.