July 27, 2018
I had a dream last night.
I dreamt I was back in my childhood
home. My home. My House. There was a party. I think it’s for me. My parents are there. Then I
think - the party must be for them - coming back. They’ve been gone. Who knows why –
but they’ve been gone a while. They are laughing and talking to people, and
there is almost a small crowd around them. I walk up to talk to them.
I invite them to the
family party that is going on the next night (tonight July 27th, 2018),
at my cousins home. A party in honor of me – and a significant birthday. A birthday
that 10 years ago I knew you would miss. 11 years ago – I didn’t. A party that
by all normal means you would be at. Actually – you would be hosting it in your
own home. In our home. If things were normal. But they are not normal.
You say yes cheerfully. Yet
almost distracted. I also bashfully ask if you want to come to my home
afterward as well. Or sometime soon anyway. My current apartment I share with
M. Because I want to share this with you…. Excuse me… with them…
They smile.
I wake.
I feel pain thinking and
feeling this. I want to reach out and hug them. I want to hear them laugh. I
want them to...... just be there. I want them to be a part of these important events.
I want them to be there with my family. Our family. Laughing. Playing games. Being that
part of my life - that I actually desperately miss.
The grief slowly washes
through me and I’m helpless.
I can’t help but wonder if
they will be there tonight.
