My dreams are extremely vivid; and if I take the time to write them down, I’ll never forget it. A few nights ago, I took a magic carpet ride with someone I loved to India. That was a wonderful night, one if those nights from which you did not want to wake up. After a whirlwind life since the middle of April, I’ve decided to be a hermit this weekend. Originally planning to be in wine country today, I stayed in tending to my dog keeping him from scratching a terrible itch exacerbating a bloody skin rash. We stayed up late watching the MLB and NFL Networks, eating Indian food (chicken vindaloo with curried eggs and a Kerala chicken curry with potatoes) then gelato (which I had for the first time only two weeks ago – omg, amazing)!! We both fell asleep to each other’s loud snoring, music to our ears.
When I awoke, this is what I remembered.
I was unhappy, wanting to get away from it all finding myself in a black and white movie at a dilapidated bus terminal, soon realizing that we were surrounded by terrorists. I dropped onto the ground before me exhibiting athleticism I did not have in real life, peeking my head up to find I was in the middle of a scene from The Dark Knight Returns and they were shooting into a stadium full of football fans, the ground shaking and opening up as a 49er scored a touchdown. It didn’t take the terrorists long to realize I was still alive.
The last thing I heard was a ratatat tat tat, my ears deafened yet oddly aware of everything around me. My world went dark in that nanosecond, just after the last time in real life when my world went dark, when I was hit by that car six years ago, and like a series of Polaroid pictures of all the people I loved and who loved me slowly flashing before my blind eyes. And all of a sudden I found myself looking out into a world through the eyes of a child. I didn’t know who this boy was but immediately recognized the people in the room, tho they were considerably older than what I remembered. My mom was carrying on; my father consoling her. My brothers and my sister were old, their kids young adults. My uncles and aunties and my cousins. My dear friends were there too. And they too were sad. I looked up with my youthful brown eyes – my eyes, the ones I had my entire life – into all of theirs. And I wanted to tell them everything.
And I tried to tell them what I had just gone thru. I was ok. And I had my entire life ahead of me. But I was dead. And they would never see me again. All those things I wanted to say before I died, I did not say; cos you never know when that day will come. I was before them, and I could have said it all; words of love. Sadly, the I before them was not me, but someone who had a part of me in him. I would make it my new life’s mission to tell them how much they meant to me; and how much they will come to mean to me. How much they lived in my heart; and hopefully how often I will live in theirs.
And then I woke up.
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