Tag Archives: growth

Settling for Second Best

When Israel was a child, I loved him,
And out of Egypt I called My son…
I taught Ephraim to walk,
Taking them by their arms;
But they did not know that I healed them.
I drew them with gentle cords,
With bands of love,
And I was to them as those who take the yoke from their neck.
I stooped and fed them. (Hos 11:1, 3-4)

From my parents’ retelling of childhood stories, old photographs, recollections and memories of the past, I can piece together some parts of my childhood. And some things, though unsaid and un-narrated, I can recall. Because both my parents were working when I was a year old or so, I lived with my maternal grandparents for the first few years of my childhood after I turned one. Inherent in those years was an old memory, or rather an old feeling I recall – a constantly longing I had for my absent parents while we were apart, especially my mother. Though there was nothing more I could ask for while I was under my loving grandparents’ care, I often missed my parents and would sometimes fall sick because of that, according to my grandmother. I had everything I needed or could ever want, but I missed my mother. That feeling is hard to describe. But it did make me a pensive child in my earlier years.

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Growing Backwards

Last night I had a dream: I walked into my office at work and started to search for my baby. I knew that I had a baby and that I had not been a good parent because I had been neglecting it. I had to dig it out from under layers and layers of blankets and clothing. When I uncovered it, it was this shriveled, tiny thing that was no larger than my hand. And I could see that it was struggling to breathe and that it was very weak. I began to feel a sense of panic. I started to force milk down its throat and it gradually began to look better. The legs began to curl up into the usual fetal position and the color got better. I remember feeling immense relief that it did not die. That’s all that I could remember of the dream.

When I woke up this morning, the dream immediately came to mind and I knew that the shriveled up baby was my spiritual self. It was almost like a lightening bolt, the clarity of the dream’s recall and my instantaneous understanding of its meaning. Continue reading