Manes: \pron. MAN-ays or MA-nees\ n pl [L] 1. the deified spirits of ancient Roman dead honored with graveside sacrifices 2. the venerated or appeased spirit of a dead person

A dream...or vision. I don't know which:

As I am drifting off to sleep, I see myself standing in a stark landscape - perhaps a desert. I am holding a dark, intricately filigreed box which I open. Inside is a large (1' across, at least) faceted crystal heart. I smile and hug the heart to my chest and feel a wave of love wash over me. I am tempted to keep the heart close to my chest but decide to put it back into its box, where it would be safe.

As I close the box up, a man appears to my right. I don't see him very clearly, only that his clothes are draped in such a way that at first it appears that he is dressed in tattered rags. His first words to me are, "What would happen if you left it open?" - referring to the box. I immediately smile and reply with a question of my own, "Who are you?"

He walks toward me, reaching for the box as he does. I immediately clutch it to me and demand that he identify himself. He laughs and elegantly bows to me. He tells me his name but it is as if it 'fuzzes' out as he says it. When I ask that he repeat it, he tells me that I am evidently not ready to hear it.

He opens the box and again I am washed with the wave of love. I am afraid that if I leave it out, it will again be broken perhaps this time beyond repair. He tells me that my heart is good but it is not yet illuminated. To illustrate his meaning, he takes out his own heart which is glowing with a brilliant golden-tinged white light that is sent out in many different directions through the facets. He puts it back into his coat as I again ask, this time with quite a bit of wonder in my voice, "Who are you??"

He walks closer to me and introduces himself as Masaquil. He sees the puzzled look on my face and shows me what it looks like in writing. I introduce myself to him and then as I shake his hand I have to ask, "Why can't you guys have easier names - like....Bob...or Tom?"

I doze off and later wake up with a start. I have no idea how long I was out.

The last week hasn't been that great, in some respects. I've spent the last three days and nights alone. I'm actually torn between being here alone, not having to worry about anyone else or what they think and being alone, lonely and wanting some companionship - wanting a kindred soul to share it with for a while.

I'm supposed to go to the hospital in the morning (actually, in about 3 1/2 hours) to pick C.M. up after he has the endoscopy. I've been wondering where it all went wrong - aren't I supposed to feel something other that what I have felt about R.'s death...or more specifically, it's effect on C.M. and his mother? What really hurts is the fact that I have been left completely out of the loop on the whole thing. It was assumed that I wouldn't go to the visitaton or funeral. Since then, C.M. has spent quite a bit of time with his mother. I don't have any gripes about that...except for the fact that I feel left out.

I have to wonder what C.M.'s image of me is - he keeps saying things like, "...if that doesn't offend you." or he implies that he doesn't do many things because he thinks that I will either be pissed off or throw a tantrum. (Really! Any display of anger seems to be a tantrum - no matter how well it is handled.) I'm about to get to the end of my rope...perhaps I'll get a clue now. I know, I know I should think of my own wellbeing...but I don't want to lose this place. I've put too much of myself into it despite my best efforts at times. Come on, brain, God/dess, whoever - help me to resolve this!

UPDATE: The test went well. Something was finally found as a reason for all the pain and trouble - the doctor said that there is 'erosion' in the lower esophogus and stomach but that it hasn't gone into ulcers yet. It only took a year and a real doctor to find it.