There is Darkness in the Air*Posted: February 20, 2013
Dreams have been plaguing me.
I don’t usually dream at all, or sleep so deeply that I don’t usually remember them.
Lately, this has not been the case. It’s taking longer and longer for me to actually fall asleep, and I am often waking up from one bad dream or another. Unfortunately, I am not the only one. My Mom has been having bad dreams as well.
On Friday, she had a lunch with all of her work people. It supposedly wasn’t a “goodbye” lunch, but it felt that way to her, to me, and to anyone else who knew that she was going. They gave her a card, a gift certificate, kind of seems like a kiss goodbye.
After the lunch, she stopped at my office so I could copy something for her, and cried for a bit about her weird not a goodbye, but not a promotion or special occasion lunch. She didn’t really know how to process it. I didn’t really know how to process it for her. I think they could have waited a little bit before basically kissing her off.
Then she told me about a dream she had the night before.
We were at my sister’s house for Christmas or a birthday, or some other occasion. Everyone was there, but my Dad couldn’t hear or see her. She tried to talk to him, but he wouldn’t acknowledge her. She tried to hold his hand, and he wouldn’t or couldn’t take her hand in his. While we were there at my sister’s house he just sat. Didn’t interact with anyone. Didn’t talk. Just sat. Like he was all alone.
By the time she had finished telling me this we were both crying.
Probably because we can both see him dealing with all of this in total silence.
Last night, I had my own dream.
I called my parent’s home.
Like what often happens when I call and my Dad answers he just immediately answered and said, “Your Mom’s not home.”
He hung up on me.
Now normally when I call and she isn’t home, he says she isn’t home, and then says that he’ll have her call me, or that she’ll be right back, or she’s in the bath, or whatever the case may be.
I often forget about her standing Tuesday afternoon date with my Godmother. I often call when she is out for her Tuesday drink and a half, and then realize halfway through my Dad answering the phone that she isn’t there. My Dad almost always teases me that she is out at “Margaritaville.”
I woke up in tears. Losing her is already on the forefront of everyone’s minds, but losing him as well would be devastating. The whole thing is breaking my heart.
Close your eyes, shut your mouth, dream a dream and get us out.
Hit the hay, fast asleep, dream a dream, you little bleep.
Just relax, lay about, or my fist will put you out.
Take your time, but beware, there’s darkness in the air.