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i read at night when i cannot sleep. i have been doing some reading about Heaven and hell and, in due course, have gotten to Revelations. here is where the references of the dragon as symbolic of evil got to me. My Dragon is not that dragon and i wanted to write this out for my own sake, for the sake of communicating the kind of person he is.
he was born in 1952, which is the year of the Dragon on the Chinese calendar. he is half Russian, ¼ Sioux, and ¼ Inuit. his father was in the Air Force and so they lived all over the world. he is very self-confident, bordering on a little arrogant, but in a good way. the fun way. he loved my teasing him about his being so sure.
my Dragon was drafted in 1969. back then when you were drafted you had a choice of which branch you could enter. if you did not choose you went into the Army. my Dragon chose the Marine Corps because the Marines signed you up for 4 years rather than the Army’s 6 and my Dragon wanted to get back to college. he had only just completed his freshman year. his first tour in Vietnam was in 1970. it was still a bad time in that particular “conflict” and he had become part of an experimental unit. he went on two more tours in Vietnam, his second being when he earned the nickname Dragon. in the jargon of the military, it had been a “bad day” but my Dragon had stayed on his feet, fought fiercely, and gotten all four of his men back, shot up some but none of them died out there that time. there’s more to the story so accept that he earned his name. Dragon.
it was Vietnam and therefore under the influence of Oriental philosophy, mostly Chinese. the men chose that influence for my husband’s nickname; not Bible scripture, nothing Satanic was intended. his nickname comes from the Celestial Chinese Dragon, which is referred to as the mythical creature that brings prosperity, good fortune and abundance to the Chinese people.
the Chinese Dragon is benevolent and signifies greatness, goodness, and blessings. it also represents power, boldness, heroism, perseverance, nobility and divinity. it is Western Dragons that have the negative connotations. Eastern Dragons are beautiful, friendly, and wise. they are sometimes called the angels of the Orient. many Chinese cities have pagodas where people burn incense and pray to dragons with special services taking place there on the 1st and 15th of every month. the thing that made me smile when i looked all this up is that most of the Dragon shrines and altars are usually along the seashore and riverbanks because it is believed that Eastern Dragons live in water.
the Chinese Dragon is seen as the symbol of divine protection and vigilance and regarded as the Supreme Being amongst all creatures. it has the ability to live in the sea, fly up to the heavens and coil up on the land in the form of mountains. it wards off evil spirits and protects the innocent.
there was a lot more in the books i checked out of the library but i wanted to clarify who my Dragon is. in my reading of the Bible, i was getting tense when reading Revelations. that is not the reference that should be linked to my Dragon.
my Dragon is a rescuer of puppies who get caught around trees and rocks.
i simply wanted to clarify who my Dragon is for anyone who may correlate the nickname Dragon with something evil. my husband is not evil. he is the best man i will ever know. i love him so very much, more than i could ever help anyone understand or believe.
my Dragon is not perfect but he is mine. i would marry him all over again and forever link my soul with his. he is strong and right now, here in this world by myself, i really need to draw on the strength that he had. i need to hold his smile close in my mind and put the love we had in that hole where my heart used to be.
of note, when i type my thoughts out, i do type of him in the past tense, and then i proofread and stop at each verb and change them all to present tense. because i hold the belief that we do not change simply because we die. we are the same there as we are/were here.
i love my Dragon. i love him for all the goodness that he is (was) (had) inside him. i love his handsomeness on the outside. i love his intelligence that was inspiring and challenging. i love his sense of humor. i love who he is, was, and would have been as we got old and decrepit.
he promised me he would chase me down the hall to our bedroom via the help of his walker. i look at my photos of him and wish we had been given the chance. i thank God i had what i had with him. i pray about when we are reunited, womanNshadows and her Dragon ~ the good Dragon.
i feel like a lost soul these days. because of circumstances, i exist in a very limited way and space that makes me feel like a wraith in my own life. i wake. i work. i sleep. i do not go out. i am taken to the grocery store, for work supplies, and the used bookstore. then back. mondays allows me 3 – 4 hours out and away. clerks see me because they are the ones who finish the transaction i initiate by bringing what i would like to purchase to their counter.
i am lonely. would i like a woman friend, a peer to talk to about woman things? yes. it is hard here. i think the drawback of befriending me might be my lower financial situation, my lack of having a car which makes my company a burden, and my having come into already established lives that are flush with friends and extended families. i can only bring me to a friendship and so far i see that i am not enough.
my phone has rung twice since before Christmas that it was not my son or daughter. there are not many from anyone i have met here who check to see if i am okay and i have stopped calling. it feels too much like i am begging. it breaks my self-esteem. i did it for the first 11 months after i met a few widows but i was continually put off due to their busy lives. it lead to few of my calls being returned to none. like the song says, “I can’t make your heart feel something it won’t.”
i did get one “curiosity” call about my issues with the dentist. i said “hello” and the woman immediately advised me on what i should be doing, explaining that i was a fool to go back. she closed with, “See, you get phone calls. I just called.” the dial tone prevented even my chance to say “thank you,” and “goodbye.”
i do have a constant friend, that’s what i call him, my constant friend. he is my pen pal if one can be called such a thing when communicating solely on the computer. he is my husband’s Marine “brother.” i want him to know i am most grateful to him. one, he tells me stories about my Dragon which adds to the painting i had started in my head. two, he talks to me and has yet to find fault with me.
the stories. i seriously wish my husband’s friend had come for a visit. i would have plied them with alcohol and then taped them reminiscing about all their “adventures.” i would have been allowed such a legacy in that tape. two men whose lives were spent serving their country in places like Vietnam, Angola, Beirut, and Afghanistan, dancing on the tip of the iceberg. they have so many stories, both separately and together. some are wildly funny. some are just wild. listening when my Dragon told me things, i was always studying his body language to make sure he was okay during the telling. listening to my constant friend, i can continue my visions and empathy of what my Dragon and he went through. i can sense the fear they sometimes dealt with as well as the adrenalin rush. i can close my eyes in wonder at what these men were asked to do. most of all, i am continuing to learn what my Dragon and my constant friend live with.
i miss my Dragon. as each day passes, each week, i miss him more and more and yet, oddly, i am becoming more accustomed to feeling this way. it is not any easier. i am doing what has to be done to continue. I am adapting.
i am lonely for him. i miss the thrill i got when he smiled at me. i miss flirting with him. i miss his presence. i miss his words, his brooding, his nightmares, his laughter, and his breathing next to me in bed. i miss his warmth and his love. i miss his legs, arms, hands, mouth, and his eyes looking at me.
i wish he had not died. i sometimes want to go back to where we lived so much that it breaks me. i wonder if i could find peace back there. it was more a small village than a town. people knew us, they knew me and liked me. it was okay to be exactly the person i am. like my Dragon, they saw me, listened if i spoke, and liked what i made. i wonder if i had had the wherewithal to stay, if my grief would have been more poignant and less stressful as i settled in to wait to be with him rather than being here with this lonely gut-wrenching pain and not having anyone to talk about him with. the pull to go back to the cove is so strong inside me but is also one that, even with all the money in the world, would be impossible to fulfill. i cannot explain. the pain is so great that taking the time to explain would send me to bed. accept that it is beyond my reach. to quote another song, “you can spend your whole life working for something just to have it taken away.”
it was all taken away. it is for everyone who loses their spouse. i am not worse off than anyone else. i am simply trying to find a way to be heard. i am saying it was the same for me. here is the only place where i may try to express what i am feeling with any hope that someone will hear me.
when my Dragon died, i did not ask for any of my love to come back to me. i do not want it back. it belongs to him. i gave it all to him a long time ago. but i also lost my place in this life. i lost people seeing me, realizing i hurt as well. i lost our location. i lost our cove, our small slice of the ocean, our island, and all our dreams.
i lost the love of my life, the one i am meant to be with. it was sudden and he went quick. i did not get any last words. i wish i had. just to hear his voice again. once more.
sometimes, when i first wake up, or in the early afternoon with there are still hours and hours of living still yet to face in the day; i can get tricked into believing he is not really gone from me for the rest of my life. for a second i sometimes think that he should be back from his errand. but then i look out the window, not at the ocean, but at asphalt, and i remember.