|One of the way too many wedding dresses I tried on before deciding…a year later|
I love how my dreams always give me beautiful analogies of what’s happening in my life.
The night before I got married, I had a dream that I walked into a cafeteria full of doctors who had saved my life. The first one to ever save my life that I knew of was Dr. Shapiro, my first brain surgeon. Dr. Shapiro was also very young, and as I remember, a very good-looking man. In my dream, Dr. Shapiro was single, and wanted to date me. It was as if my brain REALLY raked and raked through all my memories, forcing me to think if there could possibly be someone else I should marry besides D. My brain produced the first brain surgeon to save my life. Apparently, my subconscious still finds this guy a hero; and who wouldn’t? But then, the most amazing thing happened. Even in my dream, I politely told my life-saving brain surgeon from my past that I was engaged, and I wondered off to find D. When I found D, he was being a hero! He was saving this little boy from being attacked by bears (admittedly my biggest fear when we go backpacking in the mountains) who were closing in on all sides of them! D managed to save the boy and survive! On the night before I decided to fully devote my life to one man for the rest of my life, my brain did a complete cross-sectional analysis of everyone I could possibly marry, and the results were still D! I love my subconscious!
The night after the night I was married I had a different dream; one that was more about laying down my life and starting anew.
My “lucky number” has always been #3. When I was running cross-country, I always wanted the #3 jersey. I couldn’t wait to be a senior so that I would have first pick of the jerseys, and I would know I definitely had #3. In my dream, D and I went to the same high school, and we were both seniors on the cross-country team. From the men’s jerseys, he chose #4. In the women’s jerseys, I immediately snatched up #3 with such pride. I was so happy. I had finally gotten to it first. Then, I saw what D was wearing from across the room. He had chosen the #4, and another guy had the #3 jersey. As badly as I wanted that jersey, I laid it down and watched everyone else who wanted it jump on it, as I slowly picked up the women’s #4 jersey and put it on. It was time to lay down my old life, just living for me, and begin living a whole new life in complete unison with D. It was more important for us to be #4 together, then me get what I wanted separately. Another brilliant play by my subconscious.
1st person to call me “Mrs. C” : Cashier at Safeway, looked at my Safeway card, registered under D, and called me Mrs. C, before we were even married. 🙂
1st time I had to say my name was T C, and had to look at it to spell it because I was so nervous: Making dentist apt.
1st time signing my name as T C. At DMV, on papers I needed to turn in, in front of Jessie. It was weird, and I realized I was NOT good at signing my new last name at all! I needed a review of how to make different cursive letters, and even though I have similar transitions in my old last name, it kept looking wrong written in cursive. I realized I had never ever practiced writing this name in cursive before, only in print.
1st person to ask for my maiden name: Guy at DMV. Never have I EVER felt more old. Maiden name?! Old maid!