Year Four, Day 45: A Miracle

I sat up in bed suddenly this morning at 5:00 a.m., gasping for breath.  My throat was raw, my eyes felt weepy.  I had opened my window late last night. I needed to breathe fresh air. I had heard on the news that Thursday would be a better air quality day.

They were wrong.

Today's air quality index (AQI) is 157, "Unhealthy".

"People with heart or lung disease, older adults, and children should avoid prolonged or heavy exertion. Everyone else should reduce prolonged or heavy exertion."

https://airnow.gov/index.cfm?action=airnow.local_city&cityid=160 

As soon as I read the AQI prediction, I leaped out of bed and closed my window. My heart was racing.  I ran to the bathroom and splashed cold water on my face. Then I crawled back in bed.  I struggled to remember the vivid dream I had before I was thrown head on into consciousness.  It was swiftly disappearing. Like the smoky haze in the sky.

What I do remember is that I met an Italian man on a bike. He was very friendly. But he didn't speak English. He seemed to have something important to tell me. I remember thinking he was handsome, and that something about him seemed familiar. We attempted to communicate for a bit on the street corner. 

Then suddenly, as dreams do, the scene changed. I was walking with my adult son.  We were walking down a narrow alley. I had a feeling someone was following us. Someone dangerous.  From the corner of my eye I saw a long, black limosine pulling up to my side. The windows were tinted. My pulse quickened as I heard them began to roll down.  I did not want to see who was in the vehicle!

I whispered to my son that we needed to run.  We turned into the nearest doorway. We went up and down stairs, down long hallways. It looked like the Catholic boarding school I went to when I was in 7th grade. Without the nuns.

There was a big party going on in one of the rooms. We seemed to both have the same idea. We casually joined the crowd. To blend in.  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw men in dark suits walk in.  

That's when the dream faded. 

It wasn't until this evening, on my way home that I remembered the dream again.  

I spent most of my day inside yesterday, given the poor air quality. Didn't want to make my ailing lungs any worse. My daughter, son-in-law and Grace went out for a bit. When she returned, I asked her what the air was like.

"It is like Armegeddon", she replied matter-of-factly. "Don't go out there."

As I walked to the bus stop this morning, so thankful to finally get out of the apartment, I remembered her words.  I shuddered.  The air was cooler, but the skies were gray.  There was not the pleasant, heavy feeling of impending rain.  The skies were thick with smoke.

Overall I am a tad better today. I am worried a bit about the smoke, but since I have no sense of smell, it didn't bother me.

I am feeling more hopeful.  Less negative.  I am thinking many of my symptoms have an emotional component. Anxiety.  When I start to worry, and my mind fills with racing thoughts, my jaw clenches.  My stomach churns. My heart races.  For most of my life, I could calm myself with food. But that is no longer the case. My jaw hurts. I am on a soft food diet. I have no sense of smell. Food just isn't as appealing.

I am beginning to find peace with that.  I am hoping I am on my way to kicking my food addiction.

I blogged recently that letting go of food as comfort was frightening for me. What would I put in it's place?

Well, I have the answer.  Actually there are several answers.

1. Music.  When I am playing the piano regularly, my mind is not racing with stressful, negative and often useless thoughts. It is thinking in musical notes.  I find that Bach is especially calming.  You have pay attention when you are playing Bach.  Lately I am enjoying his Inventions and Sinfonias.  I seem to enjoy playing more than listening. But when I listen to Bach, I also feel peaceful.
2. Books. Yes, I am a bookophobe.  Lately I am reading several memoirs: The Foxhunt: A Refugee's Memoir of Coming to America by Mohammed al Samawi; Never Stop Walking: A Memoir of Finding Home Across the World by Christina Rikardsson; The Stowaway: A Young Man's Extraordinary Adventure to Antarctica by Laurie Gwen Shapiro; and Victory Over the Darkness: Realizing the Power of Your Identity in Christ by Neil T. Anderson.  I am so happy to have the focus again necessary to enjoy reading!  For several years, I was so consumed with anxiety and sometimes depression, that the power of the word did not sustain me for long.  Currently it is working! I am filling my mind with interesting true stories of incredible people. I especially enjoy reading about people who overcame seemingly impossible situations.  
3. I am continuing to read from the Bible daily. I am currently in Psalms.  My favorite book in the Bible.  The psalmist cries out in pain in so many of the psalms.  He is suffering. His enemies pursue him. But still he believes in a God that can save him.  Not all of the psalms are cries for help. Some are beautiful poems of praise.  
4. I don't watch much television. I limit my DVD's to Little House on the Prairie with my granddaughter.  She enjoys it so. And I am soothed by the wholesome messages and simpler way of way.  Plus, House on the Prairie is based on a true story! In this age of political mayhem, I believe that truth is comforting! Lately I have been watching TBN.  Usually in the background as I read, blog or play the piano.  It is refreshing to not be assaulted by commercials.  I find most of the programs interesting. And since I have been keeping up with my Bible reading, I find I can apply my knowledge...

O.K. Back to my dream.

I was pondering the positive revelations in my life today after my last piano class.  I was walking towards the bus stop, thinking I would head home early.  I made a pot of black beans yesterday. My daughter made sauteed zucchini and rice. I was thinking of a nice bowl.  

Just then my phone buzzed. It was my son.  He asked me if he could meet up with me before I went home.  He said he was downtown.

Well, that just happened to be the way I was heading.  We agreed to meet in front of the Starbucks in Pioneer Courthouse Square.

As I debussed, I noticed a lot of activity in the square.  Tents, and people milling about. Loud music.

It was an Italian Fest.  The sounds of opera spilled out onto the street.

I wished my nose worked. I imagined the smell of pasta and sausage was filling the air! Good thing my nose didn't work. I couldn't afford the calories. And the idea of chewing hurt my jaw.

So I headed up to the Starbucks. I waited a few minutes, people watching.  The music was lovely. Just then my son came into view. He came up and gave me a big hug.

I miss my son.  I worry about him so much.

We chatted for awhile. He said he wasn't hungry, just wanted to say hi. He had just taken his girlfriend to work.  We both needed to find a restroom. The security guard pointed us downstairs.

And so I had my first all gender bathroom experience! It was quite surreal. There was a security guard at the entrance showing us the different, er stalls.  The ones on the right clearly marked with a "urinal" sign.  We went our separate ways. There were men, women, children, and two mothers changing their baby's diapers.

I met my son back in the square.

"That was weird", he said grimacing slighly.

"I though it was cool! My first all gender bathroom experience!" I laughed.  My son raised an eyebrow.

Just then a young man took the stage.  The announcer said he would be singing "Nessun Dorma"  (Translated, "None Shall Sleep")

My son had said he needed to leave. But I pulled him back by his arm.

"This is one of my favorite songs!" I said. "Stay and listen".

My son listens mainly to rap. I was impressed that he stayed. He listened.

"That was nice", he said. 

Then he looked at me quite seriously.  There was such clarity in his eyes.

"Don't judge me", he said.

I scrunched my forehead, confused.

"Tomorrow we (he and his girlfriend) are giving up EVERYTHING. Cigarettes, and ..."

OH! I understood immediately. All of my suspicians were true. I didn't ask.  But I told him I was proud of him. I asked if he had any support?  A program? A church? Just the two of them?

He said just the two of them for now. They had talked about this a lot.

I gave him a hug and told him I loved him. We took a picture together.  All my worries dissolved. I shed a few tears on the Max.  I put on my sunglasses for my privacy. I said a prayer of gratitude.  

I pray for him daily. I have faith. I am not expecting miracles, but this is the best news I've had in a long time.

To acknowledge he has a problem. To make a plan to change. 

That is a good start.

As the Max stopped at the Moda Center, I sat up with a start. My dream!

An Italian man!  The Italian Fest downtown!

And the evil man chasing us?  Is that the demon of addiction?

And my son. The lost sheep? The prodigal son?

I feel like pieces are falling to place in my brain.  

But I dare not expect to know the outcome. I am just thankful that we had that lovely moment together.

I sent my son our picture. With a simple "I love you" beneath.  He texted me back a moment later:

"Love you too".

Just now as I get ready to close, I have TBN on in the background to keep me company.  As I typed "Love you too", I heard the words, "God's little miracles..."

I stopped. My fingers in the air.  I have no idea what the context was. When I glanced at the television, they were transitioning to the next program.

Yes.  Today was a miracle. One of God' little miracles.

Only it felt like a big one to me.

Talk to you tomorrow.

Maybe I'll even have gotten some exercise in!  Oh, exercise! I need to add that to my list!

Love,

Zita