Before Mitchell and I started having children, I had a dream that we had three daughters. This is no joke. In the dream I saw them playing in the backyard of my childhood home. Out they ran through the door from the kitchen to the deck. Down the steps. I just watched them run together and play. I stood at the window in the kitchen and looked out at them holding hands, running. That was it, the extent of the dream. I never saw their faces, just the backs of their heads bobbing together. One of them had long dark hair. One of them had little blonde curls. And honestly, I don't remember how the third appeared, just that there were three.
Then our first baby was a boy. Our second baby was a boy. I loved my two baby boys, of course. I wasn't sure how many children we'd wind up with, but at that point I figured, well, we're going to have all boys. Many times in those early motherhood days, I also thought back to my dream and figured it was symbolic, not literal. Or maybe it was just crap? Just a dream.
What I didn't realize eleven years ago was that perhaps I was only seeing the trees, not the forest. A portion of the painting, not the masterpiece. How could I know the bigger picture from my vantage point in 2005?
Isn't it funny that the picture we're painting during life doesn't always make sense brush stroke by brush stroke, but as the scenes emerge more fully--it does? Each stroke a decision, a life choice, that compounds, merges, overlaps, fuses with the others you've colored in to make perfect, beautiful sense. I think back to my dream now and what can I do but smile? Every day I tell Dorothy how happy I am that she's here with us. This portrait. Three sons and three daughters. I couldn't have dreamed it any better.
The older I grow, the more I realize how little I see of the bigger picture all at one time. How little of this masterpiece/painting, this landscape/forest, is complete in this moment. And to be patient! I'm appreciative, so gratified, to from time to time have a peek at what I'm creating from a broader angle. It's a great reminder to, on occasion, zoom out and refocus before zooming back in. (Taken with timer and tripod.)❤