I saw you more clearly this time...
I dreamed about you again last night. My dreams are more vivid and realistic when I forget to take my medication. This time you looked more like yourself. At first, you were younger. I was sitting on the floor of an old, empty house, holding you in my lap, your head against my chest, my head resting on yours. Looking around the room I saw that the floor was bare and the paint on the walls was badly chipped. Gray and white. Old and faded. We were both crying. We were both grieving. I could feel your cheek against mine as I squeezed you tight.
Then you were older. Fitting my most recent memories. You had just come home from being out and said that you were tired and needed to sleep. You walked toward an empty bed in the room and lay down. I grabbed your hand, pulling you away from that bed and asked you to please stay awake. "I have to tell you something!" I cried. "You need to try to stay awake. I know what's going to happen if you fall asleep!"
"Mom," he said with importance. "I'll be fine. I just need to sleep for a little while." I implored, "No! Please, Brayden. You died when you went to sleep!"
You were gone and I was now standing outside, wanting to run away from this place. The sky was beginning to darken with heavy, rolling clouds and the air was growing colder. I needed to start driving home before the worst of the weather set in but something was holding me back. I could hear your voice. You were calling for me. My son. "Mom!" echoed from the translucence.
As I looked back toward the house I could see a thin veil, like light reflecting and bouncing off the surroundings of a lit swimming pool at night, but saw nothing on the other side. I could only hear your cries, "Mom, wait! Don't leave me here!" Running toward the sound of your voice you came into my view and I could see you on the other side.
I ran toward you with the will of a mother who was not going to lose her son again. That will allowed me to reach through and take hold of your hand. Dry and rough, calloused from hard work, but warm and strong. I could feel the tension on my arm as I pulled you through with all the might of my being.
Our window was closing. We ran, like you do in a dream, as if an unseen force slowed our every movement. The sky flashed mightily with lightening and heavy thunder boomed, thickening and slowing the air around us.
Then, realizing that my eyes were closed, I could feel the warmth of the sun on my face, the light forcing my eyes open. Waking up I discerned that I was back in my reality. You were gone. Emptiness filled the pit of my stomach again with a blackness that spread through my veins to my heart and ever upward forming a hard lump in my throat as I realized that I would never get you back.
Then you were older. Fitting my most recent memories. You had just come home from being out and said that you were tired and needed to sleep. You walked toward an empty bed in the room and lay down. I grabbed your hand, pulling you away from that bed and asked you to please stay awake. "I have to tell you something!" I cried. "You need to try to stay awake. I know what's going to happen if you fall asleep!"
"Mom," he said with importance. "I'll be fine. I just need to sleep for a little while." I implored, "No! Please, Brayden. You died when you went to sleep!"
You were gone and I was now standing outside, wanting to run away from this place. The sky was beginning to darken with heavy, rolling clouds and the air was growing colder. I needed to start driving home before the worst of the weather set in but something was holding me back. I could hear your voice. You were calling for me. My son. "Mom!" echoed from the translucence.
As I looked back toward the house I could see a thin veil, like light reflecting and bouncing off the surroundings of a lit swimming pool at night, but saw nothing on the other side. I could only hear your cries, "Mom, wait! Don't leave me here!" Running toward the sound of your voice you came into my view and I could see you on the other side.
I ran toward you with the will of a mother who was not going to lose her son again. That will allowed me to reach through and take hold of your hand. Dry and rough, calloused from hard work, but warm and strong. I could feel the tension on my arm as I pulled you through with all the might of my being.
Our window was closing. We ran, like you do in a dream, as if an unseen force slowed our every movement. The sky flashed mightily with lightening and heavy thunder boomed, thickening and slowing the air around us.
Then, realizing that my eyes were closed, I could feel the warmth of the sun on my face, the light forcing my eyes open. Waking up I discerned that I was back in my reality. You were gone. Emptiness filled the pit of my stomach again with a blackness that spread through my veins to my heart and ever upward forming a hard lump in my throat as I realized that I would never get you back.
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