these dreamsDecember 13, 2009
I just woke up from the second dream I’ve had about Clark. I don’t know why I’ve only had two. In the first one, he was sick, we were in an unfamiliar hospital setting and I was wrangling doctors. I woke up sobbing and distinctly shaken. The dreams could possibly be the worst part of this entire process because in them I can touch him and he responds, and when I wake up, it takes at least a second or two to fully recognize what reality is like. That initial one followed me for at least a few days.
In the dream from last night, he was healthy - he had come back from the dead mobile and free of disease. I was making arrangements with cancer doctors, thinking, in my dream-brain, that if he managed to cheat death once, we had better be on top of whatever could be lingering inside him. He was typing on the computer, asking me if he could have the car to go to band practice. I told him he could only have it if he picked me up at the Black Cat afterward, and I asked him if he remembered how to get there. I kept trying to talk to him about how I was going to call the doctors to make sure that him being alive wasn’t a fluke, and he kept shrugging it off. In the dream I thought in my head that I have to remind him that people think he’s dead, so he’d have to be cautious in public places, but I didn’t say it out loud to him because, I reasoned, that made it more likely he’d get sick and die again. And then I woke up not sobbing, but full of these creeping tears that silently won’t stop coming.
Mostly I wonder what about yesterday, and the day I had the first dream, made them happen. I think about Clark constantly, nearly every second of every day, and he’s the last thing flickering in my head as I drop off to sleep at night. You’d think I’d see him in slumber every day, but I don’t. So what was it about yesterday?