80. Dreams Will Unwind

I dreampt all night about children doing things like putting a small button in their ear; swallowing a quarter or a checker; about too many kids and not enough food; and having too much company.  Yes, they brought food but it was from all different cultures and nothing looked familiar; another dream about someone older teaching me things but also hurting me; about not finding anything clean; and there were too many kids to take care of. When I got up this morning; l looked at a picture of an abstract landscape; all I saw were children’s faces and I wrote:


I know today I have to take very gentle, good care of myself; and find new ways to mother myself. Much of this is the after effects of a religious holiday where I know the most important thing was to learn to serve; the aftereffects of seeing lots of old family pictures; and not being able to mother my children and grandchildren right now because of Covid – 19. It is also because of the absent mothering I received growing up in a household of twelve; even tho I did get more than many; do appreciate what I did get.  It’s probably also because a neighbor who knew me as a child; wrote yesterday on facebook asking me to sing the song my mother always sang (mom’s mom died when she was 5) and she’d sing the song, “There’s Noone like Mother to Me”.

Yesterday, I tried to sing the song for the neighbor twice;. The first one was distorted and I deleted; The second one did not post which I find interesting in itself.

I get what the saying means “feel like I’ve been through the wringer; or wrung out to dry”

That’s how I feel this morning.

I woke up reciting a poem I wrote in the 1990’s when memories were becoming conscious
Like a little girl lost
Can’t say what’s wrong
Who doesn’t feel loved
Who doesn’t feel strong
She’s waited so long
For someone to be there
For someone to love
Someone to care
Maybe she’s finding
What she needs now
Someone who’ll love her
And all her needs allow.

And a song I wrote in 2014 to the Tune of The Boxer

” I am just a poor girl and I want my story told
I’ve been wandering in the desert , in the desert of the old
Old shit; from my past; It hurts so much I want to outlast
The pain of the past
Let it go leave it alone
It’ll dissipate as I go about my day and my night
Dreams will unwind the things I don’t want to know
Describe my experience it helps others see
There is an end to misery
Deepen again Despair leaves with a pen and with others
Who listen to the way back when
I was tiny and could not take care of my own need
Trusted in the father and the son
Well no more I can only do what’s right for me
And let the world see the terror as I leave it out of me
Why – why do I cry; it’s the pain; a blast from the past
Time to let it go  I know I’ll move on and have what I need
Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
Yeah yeah yeah
Leaving me
Being Set Free.

April 16, 2020

—-Ellen Sagh

summer:  306 382-5204
winter      480 373-1734
writings:   ellensagh.com

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