Blue Whales in my Dreams
Last weekend, the morning before I got sick with the flu, the morning Dickson’s mother came for a visit, the morning that we were set to begin our celebration of Eliza’s 2nd birthday – quietly, peacefully and with little fuss – I came closer to a blue whale then I ever dreamed I would be. Franklin, Bernice and I visited The Blue Whale Project in the city – the last public viewing of the skeleton before it is displayed at UBC.
Then I got sick. All weekend, while forcing myself out of bed to help make the small preparations needed for the birthday and try to be as hospitable as I could considering my state, I could think of nothing else but blue whales.
I was swimming with them, I was eating them, I was inside them, I was putting them together and I was taking them apart. I was teaching classes on blue whales – imparting knowledge I hadn’t remembered since I was a kid, fascinated by the largest animal ever to live. I was swallowed by a blue whale and I was living inside it’s mouth, hanging photographs on the baleen and curling up on the tongue.
Eliza had a wonderfully calm birthday with close family around her. Photos to follow. Wondrously sappy blog post to follow. Impossible questions about her future and the nature of siblings to follow.
But at that point, in my hunger and nausea and aching head, I was consumed by the blue whales.