Dreaming of Familiar Faces

         Sometimes, dreams come too late in the night. Often, I lay awake, wondering why they come at all. A familiar face, a place from long ago, an old feeling, that when you wake leaves you alone in cold sweat. It is these dreams that sometimes hold clues to a greater world, the people in it who matter, family, friends, lovers… It is in these dreams all are bound tight, regardless of distance, regardless of the last time you saw their face. So in night, kept awake, dreaming of someone you know is in distress, how do you save them? How can you overcome a world that has driven you apart, to save a character from a dream?

         I suppose this subject could be a metaphor. Maybe your mind is frustrated at the outcome of things, after so much disappointment all that is left is a feeling of despair, and distress. Maybe that is all these dreams mean. Maybe it is a longing for the face which you are slowly starting to forget, as time ebbs and chips away at the pictures in the back of your mind. With enough time passing by, who’s to say you could even recognize these people after so many years, and so many trying and difficult times?

         I think to call this a metaphor would be a problem. All things are connected, so maybe, just maybe, when asleep, all of the superficial problems of the world fade, and your subconscious takes over and reaches out. Are they sleeping under the same stars? Why is there so much pain? Why do tears and rain replace sunshine and smiles? A pleasant dream seems to be a thing of the past, each day waking, looking into a mirror and seeing new lines, and dried tears. What could drive the inner mind to such disparity other than truly being able to see beyond the things presented to you in the waking life?

         I sit here, writing this, and thinking. If she is out there, somewhere, how much of this is my fault? How could it possibly be my fault in the first place? The seeds of guilt are a treacherous thing, and the doubt is misplaced, though, one can wonder. One missed connection can change everything. It can literally turn people’s worlds upside down, drive people to do irrational things, and end lives. The pain of not knowing is truly the worst kind of pain. Knowing the result, regardless of the horror of it, leaves a sense of closure, of finality. I sit here, writing this, knowing only that she is gone, to search for a missed connection, one mistake I made while being preoccupied with trivialities.

         She struck out in the cold, alone. She walked into a dark unknown to search for that missed connection, to find me, and make amends for whatever unknown grievance she committed. There was no grievance, there was only me, a flawed man at the end of the tunnel, surrounded by a big world and full of doubts and misconceptions. It is my fault in this sense, I could have tried harder to close that gap, to reach out just a little more and take the uncertainty out of the equation. Yet, now here I sit. Writing this, as cold seeps in the bones, and a chill fills the depth of my heart. Wondering, asking questions that no one can answer…

         She was supposed to write something epic. Her destiny was supposed to be much more than an uncertainty. I certainly hope that is still the case. She was raised with the strange philosophies I began to divine around the same age I’m sure she did. Being able to see the world differently, to look for more than meets the eye, and accept it as it is. Often, she spoke of a dream. A simple dream that affected her greatly, one which I pray has been able to find more willing ears than just my own.

         In this dream, a young girl sits on the front porch of a house, idling away the day. A great lion approaches, in the lawn, and sits down at her feet, looking at her. There is no fear of this lion. The lion smiles, and beckons for her to follow, getting up and walking back into the lawn. The young girl follows, and the lion lies on its stomach, telling her to do the same next to it. “See how things look out there?” the lion asks, “It’s a big world out there…” The lion then rolls over onto its back, and tells her to do the same. “Now, do you see? It’s the same world… But it looks a lot different now, doesn’t it?”

         What a fantastic dream. As I was growing, she told me many such stories and dreams. I can’t help but wonder how I would look at the world without some of the knowledge she imparted on me. It truly surprises me to think about how young she was when I was a child. Just over 20 years old, an age I am almost to myself. I see how many times she was dealt a bad hand, and how difficult her life must have been so often, trying to pay to help support a child and barely supporting herself. Making choices that hurt her, just to be able to stay near me, looking back it makes me sad.

         What a wonderful person, my mother. I write this in the hope that we will see this wonderful person again, and that she is alright. It is the curse of life to watch loved ones die, though. If that is to be, I will be the one to say the most about this amazing person in a eulogy that might have begun long before these events. Some things can poison a person, body and soul. I prefer to think more of what I knew well, before the poison came. Reminiscing on the past is a bad way to live life, but it seems to me that the present sometimes doesn’t cooperate as well as the past does in a mind, especially a present full of uncertainties and doubt. So with that all said, please come back to us. Safe travels, and god be with you, inside and out. Until we meet again.