He was a little boy again, and we were walking around somewhere, my wife and I, and him trailing behind, and it was dark, but busy with shoppers,
Lots of noise and traffic, but it was dark and the location uncertain.
And then, he was not to be found. I had a despairing feeling, a sinking of the stomach, as I tried to locate
him, in the crowd.
So then it started. A feeling of dejavue, a raise of fight-flight hormone levels, and a strange feeling of a complex set of merging realities.
On this small boy level was ambiguous if it was him, or me, looking out, from his or my vantage point,
Maybe he saw me from his eyes but through my cognitive faculties.
His suicide didn’t enter my consciousness at this point, he was as alive, as I had always had seen him.
Running away in a kind of teasing way, looking back, to make sure, that I would take his bait and run after him, and when I would certainly catch him, predictively giggling bouts, and delights of holding him, followed.
But here, he just evaporated into the darkness.
Maybe this was the natural simmering of having to take care of my little grandson, Aiden, who shares so many of Chris’s qualities, that it is beguiling.
Talked to Sandra about strange dreams, and the equally strange effects called reincarnation, and that it was a few years after Chris’s passing, that Aiden was born.
We were tired from the anxiety and the slowly sinking thought of the futility of this search, and Sandra was tired, I took her back into a similar rooming house, where similarly odd looking people hovered about, talking and behaving so matter of tacitly, that one got the impression, that it was staged, it felt as though they really were aware of our presence there, but, deliberately ignored us, as if something strange or unwanted were to happen, if we became aware of
their acknowledgement of our presence.
Multiple paranoias streamed through the prevailing places, each shrouded in athmospheres differing ,
as the seemed dis-attached, with people in one area
Different in some undiscribable ways from other areas.
Leaving her there, as she sank into a green divan, and it was only at that point that her face appeared to go through a noticeable change, the color of her visage turning into a color of musky grey, with blotches, she said that’s ok, just go look for him, maybe you’ll find him, but knowing well while the bleeding heart has come almost to a complete halt, seeming eternities between slow, grinding beats, the blood churning inside, as it forced the Crimson liquid through the rusty old pipes.
Again on the streets, the odd look of the slow winding traffic, as if when back when turntables loaded with 78’s for kicks, switched to 33, a haunted bills Holliday type drowning.
This incessant roaming went in and on, and even though the streets were oddly unfamiliar, there was no panick rising, that a re-trace can not be found, and while looking for the little tyke, I may loose Sandra.
She looked so odd herself, in a place I have only visited once before.
This was in a dream, after mom died, and flying over Minneapolis, occurred to search for her, and the house occupied by similarly odd looking, grayish people, and there was communication going on, and venturing to ask where she was, they gave assurance that she was ok, upstairs, and they are to be trusted for her care.
Now, after such a long time wondering, back there, I don’t know where, Sandra was there again not surprised on seeing me, and the complexity of two contradictory feelings of immense gladness of recovering her, and loosing him, who meant so so much, and according to Old Green Grandma, with me at her bedside, she telling about her firm conviction
that, with Sandra pregnant, and her dying she would re-incarnate as her child.
And now! Aiden, with so many similarities. He might have gone went to heaven even back then, and this delay between then and this present dream , only a disassociated energy field , in answer to my prayer of making his presence felt.
Hearing that when they finally ascend into another body, certain of no more recurrent dreams, he may, now, finally find peace, and not lead me to death, for
He may finally have new companions, including me,
Who babysits him, now known as Aiden.
Truth or illusion? There is not much difference, for the
answer is most probably the message, so long,
Prayed for.