I feel lost…just a bit. I keep getting lost in my house…my home. At night I still dream of my old home in western Kentucky. The dream has been recurring since we drove away last Saturday (really…just eight days ago?) In the dream I am desperately trying to find something. I think it is a toy from my childhood…a treasure lost long ago. My favorite stuffed animal, a dog named Doogan. I’m desperate to find him but every room is packed full of boxes. The rooms keep changing to different rooms I’ve lived in over the years. I know that if I can find the room I lived in in Louisiana then I’ll be able to find Doogan and save him before my parents throw him away.
I always wake up a little freaked-out and clueless to my current location. Moving messes with my psyche. Alas, I’ll never find my poor Doogan.
I wrote that a little over a year ago on my previous blog. We had just moved into our new home and I was recalling my recurring moving dream. Something always gets lost in a move. Little things like toys and irons, big things like friendships. Doogan, my favorite childhood toy was a casualty due to moving from Louisiana to Oklahoma. I’ve had that dream…oh my…for over thirty years or so. I’ve dream-searched for Doogan in dorm rooms, an apartment, a monastery and various houses over the years transitioning from one residence to another.
Yesterday, Doogan came back.
No, not the same Doogan. A much larger one. Yesterday, I received a package in the mail and inside was a larger version of my favorite toy. I could not believe my eyes. My favorite toy in all the world. The one I cuddled every night, cried my sorrows into, did my homework with…my first read aloud buddy! (I was born to homeschool) I smiled so big my cheeks hurt. My husband found him and bought him for me. I would never ask for such a gift. In that moment I felt so completely loved, understood and accepted. I babbled and cried about all the reasons Doogan was the best toy ever to my kids and just how awesome their Daddy is. I’m not sure what they thought but I am sure they were glad for a break from math and essay editing…even if their mom was sitting in the kitchen floor and hugging a giant dog. For a moment I was a very happy little girl.