Her Essence Lives: She Still Visits in Dreams

After waking up early one morning this summer, I went to the bathroom and thought about getting up and starting my day. The bed was still there, though, when I returned inviting me back. I crawled in again and a convoluted dream began.

In the dream, I was teaching in a school unfamiliar to me. There, I noticed that particular school smell. The whiff of paper, books, children’s sweat, and cleaning solutions made me feel at home. The sound of children’s voices in the background and the knocking of chairs against the desks welcomed me. I recognized some of the students and parents from my many years of teaching, and I had a sense that I knew them. It was an extraordinary day at school as the PTA(parents' organization) was having a celebration and was delivering gifts to all the students in their homerooms. When they came into my classroom to present the gifts, I was in the middle of a lesson. The students were quiet, well-behaved, and on task. I felt in control and competent. Many visitors were there that day, wandering around and observing. They were older educators who seemed ethereal, almost like angels, familiar to me. As they walked around and interacted with the students, I felt the essence of who they were: teachers from my past who had influenced me over the years, but their names escaped me.

The gifts the PTA delivered were quite generous. Each one received a brand-new suitcase made of sparkly plastic in an array of bright colors and styles. Quite fancy! Each child was so excited to receive one. There was no fighting or arguing about the one they got. I noticed that in the other classrooms and grade levels, the students had received furniture and even an electric fountain. One of the parents asked me if I wanted a fountain for my house as they had an extra one. “Beautiful.”—I told her,  “I will think about it...”

I began to get the students settled again. I wanted to use the suitcases as a part of a lesson, so I had the students lie down on the carpeted floor and close their eyes. I put on some relaxing music and began a visualization exercise as a “pre-writing” activity. I began asking them questions about a future trip they might take.

“Close your eyes and imagine that you are about to embark on a long journey—

Where are you planning to go? 

Who will be with you as you travel? 

What will you place in your new suitcase? Why did you choose what you did? 

What do you plan to do when you arrive? 

Will you be somewhere warm or cold?

Do you have everything you need to do all the things you want to do? 

Did you pack enough clothing for warmth, or perhaps you’ll need a swimsuit and a few 

t-shirts for the heat? Sunscreen—goggles—flip flops?

Did you pack a good book to read or your tablet to play a game?

Do you want to bring a notebook or colors to draw or paint while you’re there?

Do you have a camera or a phone to take pictures? “

As the children continued to relax on the floor, the door to my classroom opened, and in walked my mom—dressed in crisp white slacks, a pale pink blazer with a white top underneath. She was wearing pearls and her clip-on matching earrings. Her white hair was styled short, and her blue eyes sparkled as she looked up and smiled at me, vibrant, alive.

She didn’t approach me but turned and smiled at the class. She walked forward towards one of my angel helpers. They looked at each other like long-lost friends. They embraced each other, and at that moment, I turned back to my teaching. I sensed that I needed to get back to my students and began to move ahead with my lesson. When I turned around again, the angels were gone. Mom was gone too.

Mom passed away almost three years ago and it’s been a long time since I’ve seen her in a dream. She was so present there. I felt she had been observing me in my job as a teacher. She was a teacher herself for many years. Even though I am retired now, the teacher instincts loom large in my life. She and I always shared the same passion for education. She looked so good in the dream, confident, walking, loving. I felt the warmth of her presence as I woke up. It was as weird and wild as dreams can be, but I’m glad she came to visit me that morning. 

I’m not sure when this note was written to me, but I found it tucked in a journal the day after I’d had this dream. (Enclosed with the note were some sunshine stickers)

Dearest Gail,

It’s almost 10:00 and I haven’t had my cereal, but I’ve had the enclosed things sitting on my table by my coffee and decided to drop you a line—Perhaps you can use the stickers at school for a little sunshine for your students. 

It’s been a busy week but a good one. It’s good to keep busy.

Love you so much!

Mom

 

Who is who? About Gail Mehlan

As the author of Among the Sunflowers: A Memoir of a Mother’s Love for her Son and his Poems of Addiction, Relapse, and Recovery, I want the reader to know so much more about me than just that I am the mother of an addict. I am a person, whole, complex, and complicated. I am still working to find my way in life just like everyone else. I am each of you and none of you. I am strong, but I have sometimes been very weak and frail. As I state in my book, addiction “rocked me to the core” of my being, but it does not define me. It does not define my son, Mike, either. He is also a person on his own journey.

My profession was teaching, and I was good at it. I love children and their confident, uplifting attitudes about life. They smiled at me, and I couldn’t help but smile back and offer them all I had inside me so they would learn. I am still that way with my grandkids now that I’m retired. The teacher in me didn’t end when I retired.

I am a woman who believes that a loving God has always been there for me and my family, even when I couldn’t see him/her or feel their presence. Not everyone comes at a problem from that perspective, but I hope the reader will connect with our story on some level anyway.

I want you to know that I love writing, mostly in my journals, but I love words! My word for the year 2023 was enough. I have written enough about our lives. I am good enough, strong enough, and brave enough to put our book out into the world. I hope our book finds its way into the hands of readers who will relate to it and find a blessing in it. 2024 brings a new word, and I will write more about that later...stay tuned!

 I want you to know that I enjoy beaches and the sound of the waves as I walk along them. I love looking out on the water from our beautiful home and spending time with my husband. I love sunshine, sunrises, sunsets, and, of course, sunflowers. I love books and art, crafting, and scrapbooks. I still love babies and children, too. I love good food and wine and spending time with friends and family. I love the outdoors and have been walking and gardening much better since I got a new knee in 2022.

May you know me through our words, and may our story bless you. 

Gail Mehlan

Our book is available through Amazon and other booksellers.

It is also available from our website directly: GM Creative Sunflower Arts

Why did I write Among the Sunflowers: A Memoir of a Mother’s Love for her son and his poetry of Addiction, Relapse, and Recovery?

~to look closely at my own reactions to addiction

~to understand what I will never understand

~to transform the hard things and to remember the good that was there always

~to help others through my experience, strength, and hope and through an addict’s words

~to share my story, so others who have experienced addiction in their family will  know that they are not alone and neither am I

~to get it out—and hold a book in my hands

~to show my love for my son today and into the future

~to share compassion for addicts as they journey toward healing and life

Among the Sunflowers: A Memoir of a Mother's Love for her Son and his Poems of Addiction, Relapse and Recovery

 

After many years of writing, praying, processing, and rewriting, I have self-published a book! I am both proud and nervous at the same time. Today I present my new book, Among the Sunflowers: A Memoir of a Mother’s Love for her Son and his Poems of Addiction, Relapse, and Recovery. (Retail: $14.99)

This is a book about my family. The story is both painful and uplifting. The writing of this book has been a journey for our entire family. It is extremely personal, but I hope that in sharing, you will gain an understanding of the complex issues surrounding addiction, faith, and love.

Writing from the heart and exploring memories from my journals, I tell the story of my family’s experience with my son’s addiction and mental health. I share glimpses of the realities of life with an adolescent addict and our search for answers, hope, and healing. My son, Michael, adds his own unique perspective through his eloquent poetry and compelling narrative.

This memoir reflects the mother and son's shared experiences on his journey through addiction, recovery, and relapse. It is a story of love, loss, misunderstanding, and hope reflected through narrative and poetry.

 

Addiction is a disease that affects whole families. I believe this story is one of immense faith and love even when there are no answers, and the future remains uncertain.

Already available is the companion book of poetry written by my son, M. M. Mehlan (Mike), called Jolly for NOW? (Retail: $9.99). This is a collection of poetry that inspired much of our book written together. This version is new and revised and contains 14 additional poems that were not included in the original Kindle version. 

Both books are available through Amazon, but I do have limited copies available through my own personal business. 

 

Visit my Square Site if interested in purchasing a book: GM Creative Sunflower Arts

Please email me at g.meh1974@gmail.com  to request a copy(ies). I will respond to your email with additional information.

HOME

 "Your house is your larger body.

It grows in the sun and sleeps in the stillness of the night, and it is not dreamless.

Does not your house dream? and dreaming leave the city for grove or hill-top?

Your house shall not be an anchor but a mast.

It shall not be a glistening film that covers a wound,

but an eyelid that guards the eye."

Kahlil Gibran

Excerpt from On Houses from The Prophet

It was a hot August day when we arrived at our house in Illinois to help our son, Matt, and his family prepare for their move. The time had come. We needed to pack them up, move them out and sell this house. We hadn't lived here for about eight years.

I walked through the door on crutches after unexpectedly twisting and spraining my ankle a few days before and breaking a bone in my foot. I was in a large bulky boot and wouldn't be much help.

As I looked around the house, boxes,  packing paper, plastic bubble wrap, and tape were strewn all around the house; I felt such dread about what was ahead of us. Life was slowly being sucked out of the place as the last few baby toys were packaged up and boxed. I attempted to keep the baby entertained so the other adults could continue packing. My broken foot was a big nuisance, but most of the packing managed to get done anyway. We ordered carryout for dinner and sent my son's wife and two girls off on a plane the next day. Doug and I returned to Indiana, and Matt and his father-in-law drove a loaded truck to an apartment in New York City. They were about to begin a new adventure, life in the city, and a new full-time job. I felt excitement for them and hopes for their future.

A week later, Doug and I returned to the vacant house. It was quiet and dusty--there had been no time for a move-out clean. Without furniture and the children's happy laughter, it was an empty shell. The rooms echoed when we spoke to each other as we glumly looked at all the things left for us to deal with. Most of it was ours, items we had left when we moved to Indiana, thinking we would return and take care of things. But we never did. Items from Doug's physical therapy practice that he had closed down in 2012, paperwork in boxes from years of tax returns, and patient records lined the walls of the small office in the basement. Boxes. There were boxes everywhere. The entire office was full. Completely. I looked around with dread. How were we going to go through all that? We also had the workroom full of tools and the attic full of whatever. It all seemed like a burden. It was.

We took things slowly, one space at a time, and began to clean and sort. Boxes were opened and out of them flowed a steady stream of memories. We found our children's artwork, pictures we had lovingly hung on walls of our previous homes that had never found a space to be hung here. There were boxes we had never unpacked since our move here in 1995! We found trophies and photos, baseball shoes and bats, tents, dishes, Halloween costumes, books and more books, t-shirts, and collectibles. All the thoughts and emotions of reliving long-ago memories hit me hard. I couldn't believe how emotional I felt. Tears were just below the surface.

Every time I walked up the stairs to the second floor, I could remember moments on those stairs. At the very top of the staircase, the last step would make a creating sound. That sound reminded me of the kids coming home late at night, trying to sneak into the house without me noticing the time. I always opened my eyes and looked at the clock when I heard the "squeak."

I was reminded of Michelle's wedding day as she descended the stairs in her beautiful wedding gown, ready to greet the photographer on her special day. A wonderful memory. I also recalled young Mike setting up his hot wheels tracks on the stairs and shooting cars down them so they would crash into a box strategically placed at the bottom. I sadly recalled the time Mike fell down the stairs one night and was carried off on a stretcher. All the memories were flowing--good and bad.

The white ceramic floors held memories for me too. When we first moved in, I was obsessed with keeping the floors spotless. One afternoon, Matt had some friends over to have a rock concert in the backyard, and I insisted the kids take off their shoes to come in to use the bathroom. I didn't want any grass on my clean kitchen floor. Matt was so upset with me! I remember him telling me, "It's just a floor, Mom!"

Then that same floor became sacred ground when our youngest granddaughter was born unexpectedly In that kitchen. Born in the kitchen, just as her great-grandmother and namesake had in 1926 when the kitchen was the warmest place to be. As I cleaned the floor for the last time and polished it to a beautiful shine, I released my need to have it perfect and said a prayer of gratitude for my granddaughter's life and for the new owners to be able to hire a cleaning lady to take care of that beautiful floor. 

After several weeks of trips to Illinois, we finally removed all of our stuff from the house. (Yes, the attic and garage too!) The house has fresh paint and new carpeting. We've accepted an offer and closing is only a few days away. We're very grateful.

We've said our goodbyes to the physical space that was home for our family for so many years, yet the memories remain.

Kahlil Gibran says your house "shall not be an anchor but a mast." That mast is leading us to the next place that home will be. For us, it's Indiana for now. For Matt and his family, it's NYC. I'm relieved but holding onto the memories, good and bad, and the love that grew in that house. The walls were what contained our lives for a time. It was a symbol for me of HOME.

Oak Strength

 

Words Matter

“You brood of vipers! How can you speak good, when you are evil? For out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks. The good man out of his treasure brings forth good, and the evil man out of his evil brings forth evil. I tell you, on the day of judgment man will render account for every careless word they utter, for by your words you will be justified and by your words you will be condemned.”

 

Matthew 12:34-37 (NIV)

 

 

“A genuine leader will never exploit your emotions or your pocketbook.”

 

                        Matthew 7: 15-20 (MSG)

 

            

Words Matter

 

Why did I hit “share” on Facebook the other day? It only served to rob me of my sleep and my rest. It’s probably because I care too much what others think of me, when what they think is really “none of my business”.  The result was an instant backlash for me.  Perhaps I am too sensitive, but when my daughter texted me and said, “Your post was a bit harsh, mom. Can you please take it down?” I needed to re-evaluate what I’d posted.  So, I printed out the article and I re-read and considered very carefully what I had posted. I called my daughter later and we talked it through. She has extended family and many close friends who are Trump supporters and she felt that they might be upset about what I posted. She felt it might have been misinterpreted by her friends and because I am her mom, a reflection on her as well. In trying to be understanding and compassionate to my daughter and her family, I took it down. It had been posted for a little less than one hour. “I am a Facebook fool!” I wrote in my journal that night. My mind was in a tizzy as I continued to think about what I had shared. Was I wrong? I took down the post, but the words still resonated with me. Was I being a coward? A link to the article I posted is at the end of this post.

 

I had been feeling that those who are on the “other side” of my political stance have attacked my faith.  I have a right to feel the way I feel as well as express what I feel! I was experiencing a bit of self-righteous anger.  My beliefs were being challenged and the repercussions of my sharing were rocking my emotions and I felt desperate to remove the fear and settle my anxious soul.

The article I shared was what I thought was a good one.  The title, “Essentials for Dealing With Christian Trump-Supporters” caught my eye. There was so much good in this article. It helped me explain to myself what I was experiencing and had some excellent points for me to consider. At first read, it did not seem to be hateful or “harsh” as my daughter claimed. I hit “share” expecting that people would read the whole thing and glean some understanding of my position from it. The fact is, though, that these were someone else's words and not mine. I probably should have thought twice and said a prayer before sharing publicly.  I will share what resonated with me about the article. 

 

The first essential is: Understand, You Won’t Change Their Mind

 

The author states that if you think you’ll change their mind about voting for Trump, “you’ll be pitching a tent in the land of disappointment and frustration”. How true. That is not my goal, either.  I do, however, agree that I can try with tact and sincerity to “be true to “ myself, to stand “in solidarity with those who are oppressed or have little-to-no voice” and by “chasing evil out of the shadows”.  Chris Kratzer says, “A change of mind most frequently happens when there has been a change of heart. A change of heart happens best when there has been an experience that causes the person to genuinely consider the possibility, “Maybe I’m wrong?”  And as he goes on to say, “their change of mind and heart isn’t up to you, and certainly, it’s not your responsibility.”

 

For me, I think one of the best suggestions given in the article was to use questions to get to the core of what Trump supporters think. The author states that we must “as much as possible, stay calm and collected” and repeat this question often, “Help me understand…” “Help me understand how…”, “Please…help me understand why you think the way you do.” Don’t become the one who takes the low road with quick retorts and a sharp tongue. Listen, be open. Consider their thoughts as much as your own. Respond carefully.

 

The second essential is: Stop Talking About Jesus

 

            This is the section of the article that got me into trouble and the part that was considered harsh and accusatory.  The author states that if the support for Trump was about Jesus, they “wouldn’t be a right-wing conservative Christian and they wouldn’t support Trump.” 

 

            In a nutshell, all I can say is that the author does seem to go on a tirade about all the ways that a Trump supporter could not be a Christian if they support Trump because of their selfishness, racism, failure to love their neighbor, hate, brutality, inhumanity, and their 'talk 'of loving Jesus at the same time.  

 

This is where I need to reconsider that this article could be construed as harsh. I don’t think we can judge others on their faith without seeing the log in our own eye. No one wants to hear all the ways that they are not following Jesus, even if it’s true. Jesus calls all of us out on so many things. He tells us not to judge others and this section, the article was judgmental. I fell for it because I am guilty of feeling the same way. After watching the Republican National Convention and listening to the speakers claim Jesus as savior over and over and aligning their faith with Trump and his party, I felt that my faith had been hijacked. I have a hard time saying that I am a Christian these days because I disagree with so many of the ideas presented. I thought if I heard the phrase “God bless America” one more time I would throw up because I felt it was a slap in the face of someone who does love America, but doesn't agree with their stance. It felt fake. It felt insincere and used as a political slogan. It seemed to me that they were claiming Trump to be the “Christian” candidate. They were also claiming "America" and it's flag as theirs. I cringed at the lies and untruths that were spoken about me because, of course, as a current democrat, I did take it personally. I feel that there is selfishness, racism, and a failure to love others that are “different from us” coming from the Trump campaign. I see inhumanity too.  I also see and hear all of the lies. 

The fact of the matter is that I can NOT be the judge of each one of the Trump supporters individually. I must not condemn them, rather pray for them and love them with the love that is so much larger than I am. This love can only come from God. I pray that God can help me do what I cannot do myself. Reading the words of Jesus from the book of Matthew has helped me and humbled me. Maybe what we really ought to do is to start talking about Jesus, using the words of Jesus. Jesus uses his words to teach us difficult truths, and it doesn't matter which side of the political debate you are on. As my pastor said on Sunday, Jesus' stories can warp and change for us as we read and study them over and over.  We may not interpret them in the same way now as we did when we first heard them. His math is not our math. He sometimes speaks in riddles that are not easily understood. Even if we don't understand at first, we must listen and heed his word which is often contrary to what we think we know about it. His words are worthy of study and contemplation. He is speaking to ALL of us.

“Blessed are you when men revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward will be great in heaven.”  -Matthew 5:11 (NIV)

“When you manipulate words to get your own way, you go wrong.” – Matthew 5:37 (MSG)

 

“But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.”- Matthew 5:44 (NIV)

 

            “Beware of false prophets, who come to you in sheep’s clothing but inwardly are ravenous wolves.” -Matthew 7:15 (NIV)

 

            “Do not think I have come to bring peace on earth; I have not come to bring peace, but a sword.” -Matthew 10:34(NIV)

 

            “He who finds his life will lose it, and he who loses his life for my sake will find it.”-Matthew 10:39

 

            “Fear not, therefore; you are of more value than many sparrows.”- Matthew 10:31

 

 

The third essential is: Take The Abortion Card Out Of The Game

 

This one issue seems to be the big one for many Christians who support Trump and although they may not like some of Trump’s attributes and have a distaste for his past, they are loyal to him because of his anti-abortion and pro-life position.  As Kratzer says, “…this issue supersedes all other issues. They argue that the protection and preservation of the most vulnerable of human life is paramount.” Kratzer believes that Trump is using this card against abortion as “the last card in their deck, and it, too,  is the ultimate bluff.” Using abortion to gather votes from sincerely concerned Christian believers seems to top every other issue surrounding the value of life.

 

            In Chris’s view, the value to a pro-life stance for Trump followers is that it is also a stance that is against the “full fruition of women’s equality, the sexual accountability of white men, and the cessation of their religious dominance to dictate the lives of all others.” 

 

            For me, the issue is much deeper than just the horrible idea that men want to take charge of women’s health and bodies and dictate what they can do about reproduction than it is about being pro-life. Life is precious and as a progressive woman, I want to control what happens to my own body both sexually and reproductively. I would never have chosen to have an abortion myself, but I am not sure that I can tell others what is right for them.  I am also a woman, as Kratzer states, who greatly dislikes “the subjugation of women’s rights, the denial of science, and the belittling of medical truth.” Black lives matter. Every life is in fact precious and the fact that over 200,000 lives have been lost in our country since March due to COVID-19 is a disgrace. Trump's attitude that “It will just disappear.” is to me, a slap in the face revealing that my life does NOT matter to him.  He cares about unborn fetuses only if it will bring in votes for him in this election. For me, the issue of abortion is complex.  As stated in the article, it “is heart-wrenching and grey in nature.” There are no easy answers. Maybe if life were so very precious in all ways we would have…

 

~A national plan to prevent the spread of COVID-19, a pandemic plan

~Common sense gun laws instead of school shootings that happen far too often

~Immigration policies that honor life and families instead of a wall

~Universal healthcare and access to birth control and drug treatment programs for all who need it instead of unsafe, illegal abortions and drug-addicted babies and increased overdose deaths

~Improved laws and justice for all Americans with care for the whole community from law enforcement

~Care for the poor and homeless, including moms who want to have their babies and keep them

~A living minimum wage

~Prison reform so that lives can be transformed

~Care for the living planet we share, ALL of us!

~Black lives matter. As white, privileged Americans, we have to understand how we have continued to suppress people of color sometimes without knowing it.

 

The fourth essential is: Love From A Distance

 

This to me was the most important essential that I learned from reading Chris’s article.  I do have some friends and family who are Trump supporters and I need to learn to navigate that and maintain my self-respect to keep myself healthy.  I also think that we must keep our conversations centered on the core issues with integrity, knowing that even if we can do that, it may become emotionally and physically exhausting. “Personal boundaries need to be set and respected”, comments Kratzer.

 

It can be difficult to try to “agree to disagree” and to listen and ask, “Help me understand why you feel this way…” This can only go so far.  Sometimes we must walk away from the situation and put some emotional and physical space between us. Chris says, “It may be very important to continue to assert your views but from an emotional and even physical distance. To do so is not giving up or bowing down to their views. Instead, it’s either creating space to stay in the game for the long term or acknowledging that the circumstances are simply beyond your influence.”

I take some solace in this line especially, “Thankfully, where possible, loving from a distance can allow the needed separation without completely abandoning the relationship.”

            

            After I took down the post and decompressed for a few minutes, I wrote some more in my journal.  I was very fearful that the article would be taken the wrong way,  yet I had put it “out there”.  I wrote out my fears that “if someone read it and misunderstood my intent, interpreted it as hateful and that had damaged relationships…fear that the words would negate the things I believe were true in the article.” Then I let it simmer for a couple of weeks. I am free to speak my words with integrity if I take time to process. I should have processed before hitting “send” and hurting a member of my family. 

            I still think Chris’s article is excellent. So much of what he said resonated with me. His final words were: Grace is Brave, Be Brave.  I was not brave enough to leave it up on Facebook, but I am posting it differently here today. I cannot be completely silenced by my fear.

 

Words are important.

 

“Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your soul. For my yoke is easy and my burden light.”- Matthew 11:29-30 (NIV)

 

“Learn the unforced rhythms of grace…” -Matthew 11:29-30(MSG)

 

“Grace is Brave, Be Brave”

 

You can read Chris Kratzer’s article here:  http://chriskratzer.com