Friday, October 4, 2013
I have been having a lot of dreams about my son lately. Usually he's small and I am trying to protect him in some way. Usually I'm not aware that he's dead. But last night I had one from the undead variety. I had those a lot when my mother died, but they started right away. With him, it has taken me two years to get here. What I mean is, in the dream I am aware that his death happened, but somehow he is still here, so we can have it both ways. The death was a mistake that shouldn't have happened, therefore it didn't. And the feeling upon waking is not the spasm I used to have, but it is like a heavy weight on my abdomen, sort of like the weighted pillow they put on me after I birthed him, to help shrink things back to normal, I assumed. I feel hollow inside.