NOT READY TO DIE, BUT WILLING

Courage is not living without fear.  Courage is being scared to death, but doing the right thing anyway.  – Chae Richardson

 

When I was 9 years old my grandmother died.  She was an amazing woman filled with love and generosity.  She and my mom were really close; more so than my aunts and uncles.  So when Grandma crossed over mom was grief stricken.  That was until she came to my mother in a dream and told her that everything was going to be alright. 

Around the same time, I had a dream too.  But it wasn’t comforting like the one mom had.  Mine was terrifying.  It was cold and dark.  I couldn’t see anything, but I could feel. Nothingness, like I ceased to exist.  I remember waking up out of my sleep with my heart pounding and going to sleep with ma dukes.  I told God, I didn’t want to dream anymore. From that point on I was scared of dying.  

Although years would past before I would dream of death again, every time I'd go to a funeral I would recall that feeling.  I do believe in God.  But for some reason, it’s hard for me to wrap my head around not being in my body. 

In 1999, I dreamt that I was outside in a parking lot.  I was standing in between two dudes.  One pulled out a gun and pulled the trigger.  I saw myself and the other guy go down.  Once again, I woke up out of my sleep with my heart pounding.  Only difference was I was a lil’ too old to go sleep with ma dukes.  Real talk, I wanted to. 

I lived in fear for like 5 years that I was gonna be shot.  When fights would break out at the bar I was working at, fear would paralyze me.  All I’d see in my mind was me being shot.  It never did happen.  For the longest time I was perplexed at what it meant. 

That is until recently.  Over the past year, I’ve had several dreams of shootings.  All which leave me in a state of anxiety, heart pounding and out of breathe.  The other night I dreamt again.  A co-worker and I were in a crowded room.  All of a sudden the guy behind us got shot.  I yelled to my co-worker that we had to go.  I saw bullets flying and people dropping to the ground.  I started to run but he didn’t move.  I looked back at him and he was just standing there.  Then as the gunman approached us, I woke up in a panic as usual.

I don’t know if I’ll ever get over my fear of dying.  But for now, I will take comfort in knowing that in order to know courage, you must know fear.  If there is something that God wants me to do, I will do it.  Even if it means death.