…..in the pre-dawn hours when dreams are making the eyelids flutter I am in a technicolor real life motion picture of Brandon and me. First I have to write down my dream before it fades into the day and I can only remember fragments. I awoke from a satisfying yet frustrating dream…as dreams go…but SO REAL…the feelings…the touch….the son I used to have. He was in a hat…he had hair ( I never liked it when he shaved his head) like he did in his early twenties…HE SPOKE to me and we embraced and it was lingering. I could hardly let go. I kept saying to him in a motherly tone, almost as if cautioning him, “Now, don’t kill yourself, Brandon, while I am gone.” Brandon answered, “No, I won’t Mom” in his smooth, assuring voice. I held him and rubbed his back and did NOT want to let go and he embraced me with equal enthusiasm. But the stupid thing was that I had forgotten my purse and I could not pay the bill (whatever that was) and I left to frantically look for it….my heart was racing because I left Brandon to wait for me so the woman would not think I wasn’t coming back to pay….and I raced up and down stairs, in and out of rooms, and then I WOKE UP!!!! But I still had that feeling that I just had a visit with my son. It was real like…the hug was so very real…and his voice …it was his voice and his hug…..it has been five years and this is the first really satisfying hug and interaction dream with him talking. There was even a small blip of him running across a parking lot with a drum set (I know..it’s a dream, right?) with his friends who wanted to start a band. (I wish I could interject a recording of Brandon and his band here but I don’t know how.) I feel good and not sad about this dream…but it is bittersweet to have to wake up.
July 6th….all the memories of YOU come flooding back after a dream like this Brandon. I want so much to stay in that state of YOU…but instead, I have to take a bouquet of flowers to place at your grave. This life does not make sense. I love you like I always have…even more, if that is possible. I think of you more often than when you were here. did I not think of you enough when you were here? I now have the mind and heart of a broken mother whose emotions are conflicted and deep. I am a stranger to myself yet everything is familiar like an old friend. Oh Brandon, sometimes dreams are only made difficult because I must wake up to reality. I miss you so very much.