Dawn's Notes
A Dream Lies Buried Here - February 2016
by Dawn Phelps, RN/LMSW
Joanie was only nineteen years old—young, beautiful, and in love. The year was 1973—a little over 42 years ago. Joanie and her boyfriend Mike had parted company after a date. Her plan was to drive herself home and call her boyfriend to let him know she had arrived home safely—those were the days before cell phones.
But Joanie’s call never came. So Mike drove the thin, curvy ribbon of a road that led toward her house in the country. It was a dark, chilly night with fog in the low-lying areas. Mike’s eyes searched the road for signs of Joanie’s car. Then the headlights of his car told the story. He saw her car on its side on a bridge near her house. The door of the car was open, and a sense of dread overwhelmed Mike.
Upon further searching, Mike found Joanie’s lifeless body in the ditch below the bridge—she had been thrown from the car. Perhaps Joanie had gone to sleep at the wheel, or maybe a deer had jumped in front of her car, causing her to swerve. We will never know why she wrecked.
Joanie and Mike are fictitious names, but I personally know the real Mike. He gave his permission for me to write about his first love—they were engaged to be married. In regard to what happened 42 years ago, Mike said, “I like to remember, but sometimes, I have been with someone who has not wanted me to remember.”
I said, “But this year you can remember” since he is unmarried at the present. He is the one who drew my attention to the quote on Joanie’s gravestone. The message reads:
"Step softly a dream lies buried here."
I said to him, “And life goes on,” to which he replied, “Or not.” I have since thought about his “Or not” reply. I have wondered what Mike’s life might have been like if Joanie had not died. If Joanie and Mike had married as they have planned, as they had dreamed.
Beginning in l973 and since, Mike has had some rough spots in his life. At the present, he is doing well and seems focused on the future. But Mike’s dream, his first love, lies buried for 42 years now. And life “has gone on” for Mike, “Or not.”
Such is the story for many of us who have experienced a loss. When we love someone deeply we have dreams of spending more time, more years with the one we love. I know I planned to retire and grow old with my husband, the father of our children and grandpa to our grandchildren. But it did not happen.
Cancer took its toll, and he died too early. My experience is not unique—many of you have had similar losses. It does not seem to matter if it has been a fifty-plus-year marriage or a young love beginning to blossom—we are never ready to give them up.
If your spouse has died, perhaps you have longed for just “one more day” with him or her. It is difficult to give up the ones we love, no matter how old we are or how many happy years we have been together. If we love deeply, we grieve deeply.
Some of you have experienced the death of a child or grandchild which to me seems unfathomable. Or loss after loss has stacked up—causing multiple aches in our hearts.
Similar to the holiday season, the month of February can bring back memories and make us long for the days before our losses, how life used to be. We long for our lost dreams. And if we visit the burial sight of our loved one, we too can say:
“Step softly—a dream lies buried here.”
During the month of February, take special care of yourself. Hopefully, life will go on for you as you pursue a new dream, whatever that is.
Call about the next "Living Life after Loss" Group at:
Meadowlark Hospice 709 Liberty Clay Center, Kansas
(785) 632-2225
Dawn Phelps, RN/LMSW, Group Facilitator