dream journal

capture your grief – day 9: day dreams

/ Kade's mom / Leave a comment

DAY DREAMS | Do you ever day dream (or in your sleep) about your child? Do you wonder if they still exist in our universe? Do you wonder about what they look like now?

Siiigh. I like this topic. And it’s a tough one. I love dreaming of Kade. And it’s hard, too.

One time I was picking up food to go at Tokyo Joe’s. Gazing through to the window to the kitchen, I saw a worker who looked SO MUCH like Kade.

I went with it.

I pretended it was him. That I was just visiting him at work…something so normal.

It did my mind good to take this mini-vacation, and my eyes good to feel like they were really resting on him.

I relish sleeping dreams I have of him. I have a dream journal next to my bed so I don’t forget a moment “with him.” One dream felt so real it felt more like a visit than a dream.

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Maybe it was.

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blogging a – z challenge – “d”

/ Kade's mom / 13 Comments

D

Dream

I chose “dream” because I had a dream about Kade that I woke up from this morning. It wasn’t a wonderful dream where I felt as if his spirit was visiting me, that family and friends of his have described having (I don’t know if I’ve ever experienced that). It wasn’t a great dream where I felt as if was getting to lay eyes on him. It was kind of a bad dream where it involved his death and me lamenting it. So, I suppose, a reflection of real life.

In the dream Kade had to go away. Like to juvenile detention, or to jail, or something. He had to go away someplace, and for some reason, he died where he could not come back, instead of simply going to jail where he could come back. And I was lamenting my part in it.

“Why didn’t he choose jail?!–he could have come back! Why did he choose dying?! That was so stupid! Why didn’t we think this through?! Why didn’t I think to talk him out of the death option before it was too late?!” These are not necessarily the words I was saying, but the feelings I was having. Yeah, pretty awful.

But as I’ve mentioned before…anything that brings me closer to Kade is somehow strangely comforting. I dreamed about him = I haven’t forgotten him. More frightening than mourning his death, or even my part in it in a dream, is forgetting him.

I’ve had a handful of Kade dreams since he died. I keep a dream journal next to my bed so I can write them down because they are so fleeting. Some have been sad but some have been really comforting.

I’ll briefly describe my favorite:

I didn’t have my dream journal because I was traveling, so I voice-recorded it on my phone. The night before, I had been especially missing Kade before going to bed. It was a definite low. When I woke the next morning, I recalled the dream. I was having a conversation with my healthy-looking smiling boy. (So healthy, in fact, he looked a little fuller in the face, and had a beauty mark on his face that he didn’t have in life–strange). Kade looked so content. And it came to me after a little while that my vantage point talking with him in the dream was the exact spot I was sitting where I was missing him so acutely the night before.