It’s 6:33 on a Sunday morning and I’ve been up for a little over an hour, after shaking myself awake from a dream of T.
My memory of the dream starts with T being in our house for a weekend visit. For some reason, “our house” was a mishmash of where we live now, my childhood home and a house for-sale down the street and around the corner. There were toys every where. My Mom and my nieces and nephews were also there – in the house but in other rooms that I couldn’t see and didn’t attempt to enter. Lucas was more baby than boy, but he moved freely about the house.
Like T-dreams I’ve had in the past, this one held the promise of a bright, sunny, warm weekend. For several months now, the T-dreams have been like that. Yellow-bright. Happy. Resolved. Content.
There was a feeling of me being very busy, but I didn’t do much. T spent most of the dream-time in the other rooms with my nieces, nephews and Lucas.
I came home from work in the very early hours of a morning and arrived knowing that T and Lucas were wide awake, playing in Lucas’ room. Sensing something was up, I went into the room to find big brother T cleaning up little brother Lucas’ mess. Lucas had just managed to wet his pants and pee on the floor and T was sloshing the mess around with a bath towel.
I grabbed a towel from out of nowhere and started cleaning things up, including T, who had stepped barefoot through the mess in an effort to get out of the way.
T and I are sitting on the floor and I’m drying off T’s feet when we talk for the first time in the dream.
I ask Are you having fun living with mommy and daddy? He looks at me and suddenly the yellow-bright, happy, resolved, content dream-feeling fades. Tears fill his eyes as he says No. I want to stay with you. And then he starts crying.
I feel my breath catch somewhere in my throat. I’m happy. I’m sad. I’m scared for him. a dream-thought comes: his parents are probably yelling at each other or at him and his sisters. For a moment, I’m afraid that they might be hitting him.
You want to stay with me?
He nods his head yes, tears pouring down his face.
I start to shake my head…and then I’m awake, shaking my head.
And now, something I had pushed, shoved and cajoled into a dark corner is back.
I’m tired of this pain.