The Grief Diet: On the loss of my father

It was a perfect day to take the dogs for a walk. So my parents had Bogie, Lassie, Daphne, and Sally. By the way, those are the names of their greyhounds. Except Daphne. Se is a whippit who wears pajamas.

But me, no! I was walking a cow.

It was brown with a white face. It walked along quietly as we headed down a busy street in hopes to find a grassy area with some shade. My cow was docile. No need to pull on the leash or yell commands such as sit, stay, or lay down. It didn’t leave my side. I observed the stares from passers by, but it didn’t bother me none. I was content with the cow by my side.

Our nice afternoon stroll then takes a turn for the worst. My mother is sitting on the grass with the dogs, and I am sitting next to my cow. I ask my mom, “Hey, where is dad?” I walk up a small hill to look for him. The dogs, the cow, and my mom are in the distance. I cannot see them, but I know they are there. I look for my dad. I am frantic now because he is gone.

My eye catches a police car. I think, “No. That can’t be him.” But my eyes have not deceived me. My dad is being handcuffed by the police. He glances over at me. His expression speaks words that he cannot. He tells me he doesn’t want to leave me. I begin to cry.

The scene then shifts to my parents’ house. I am relieved to see that my dad is home. I am following him from one room to the next. I ask him about his time in jail. He assures me that they ended up taking him to the hospital and fixing him. He tells me that he needed some readjustments and that everything is okay now. I believe him, as I always do.

I know it is so boring to hear other people’s dreams. But this is probably the most significant dream since my father’s death. I could spend pages writing about the many interpretations my husband and I have come up with. But rather than give you the long version, I will give you the short one. In this dream, I was able to be present when he disappeared, he communicated that he didn’t want to leave me, and then he came back readjusted. He reminded me that he was not gone.

Now the cow…I haven’t the faintest idea. In the Hindu religion a cow is sacred for the life it gives through its milk. It is revered, not worshipped. Why was I walking a cow? Does it represent my grief? My faith? Myself? Maybe it means nothing. Sometimes a cow is just a cow.

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P.S. There’s a great song by Daniel Johnston called “Walking the Cow.” I’m not sure it relates to my dream, but I think it might. Here’s a video of Eddie Vedder singing it. You can hear the original version here.

Tags: cow, daniel johnston, dreams, eddie vedder, father, grief, joe veltkamp, loss, walking cow