Can I Still Dream?

Yesterday the clouds hung low and it rained steadily most of the day.  It was damp and dreary.  My arthritic body hurt all over.  My black cat crawled under the quilt on our bed and remained there for hours.  I wanted to crawl in with her.  I think the weather reflected the mood in our country, mine included.

Last week during our Bible study where we discuss the topic for the upcoming Sunday, our pastor asked us what our dreams are.  When she got to me, I was stumped.  I had nothing.  The pastor was surprised.  “What about Add the Words?”  I am one of many people who have worked for years for equality for LGBTQ people in our state.  This year I am once again organizing prayer vigils in front of the Capitol.  As I stood there for the first time in 2020 I realized that I was standing there for the seventh year, apparently no closer to the goal.  In fact, we are preparing ourselves for some nasty, punitive anti-trans bills to surface.  I told my pastor it isn’t a dream but I am doing it because it is the right thing to do.

To be honest, I tend to be someone who lives in the present.  I don’t dwell on the past and I don’t look too far into the future.  Dreams?  Oh, I had them when I was young.  Like most girls of my day, I expected to get married and have kids.  And I did.  I also expected to go to college and have a career.  When I was in junior high I heard “you can be anything you want!” but I heard “teacher, nurse, secretary” whispered in the background.  I got my degree and I worked, but I never had the career.

These questions about dreams have made me wonder if I can still dream.  I am an organizer, a planner but do I dream?  I don’t plan anything more than a year out.  I wonder if other people my age have dreams.

I have hopes for my daughters and families but I leave the dreaming for them.  And now I wonder if in the midst of the daily craziness of their lives and the negativity in our country, do they dream?  My hope for them is that they do.

And me?  I don’t know and it makes me sad.  While I usually try to leave my posts on a positive note, I can’t this time.  I will contemplate what it would take for me to start dreaming again. . .