every night a different dream

I’ve been a crazy dreamer for the last few months.  Odd, weird, senseless, amusing and scary – you name it and I’ve probably dreamt it.   This past weekend I had my very first dream of Carrie.  It was all wrapped up in a weird dream with scary things and then >poof< there she came, driving up an unknown drive-way to me in my sister’s very first car.  I’d like to follow that by noting that I do not believe I ever saw my little sister’s first ever car, in the flesh at least, for some reason I only remember it from a picture.  I was living up north when she acquired it.   Anyhow,  Carrie drove up and did not look like I last remembered her, rather how I remember her when we were much younger.   She sat in a corner in a big arm-chair in a room I didn’t recognize and her face crumpled and she began to cry.  I said, “What’s wrong babe?” and she covered her face and said “I’m so sorry I missed dinner.”    I awoke immediately after that.

Carrie and I were going to try to do dinner in March the month before she died and I never wrote back to her on Facebook.   I don’t know if this means anything and I understand that this is my subconscious providing me with the dream but it felt very real to me.   There are folks that will disagree with me that it is a sign, but my heart screams differently and my guts tell me that  I’m right.

I had breakfast with her mama the other morning; it’s always so good to see her, albeit with moments of great sorrow.  She admitted that she had told Carrie to stay away from me in our youth, a confession that stings even though I know I’m a long way from the girl I was back then.   It has been a little troubling to me at times that we were maybe not the best influences on each other — but we loved each other with such loyalty and at times, I know I was the only one that could have understood where she was and vice versa.

It is still very painful.   I am still having a really hard time and feel quite strongly that this is something I will never get over.   It’s so strange how emotional hurt can manifest itself so physically; dry throat, heavy heart and skin that feels so raw.

Next Wednesday is All Saints Day, or, Día de los Muertos, The Day of the Dead.   I’ve already been approved for the day off and think that I may travel the four hours up to Carrie’s grave site to pay my respects… I’m working on a gift for her grave and plan on bringing some of the sunflower seeds from her sunflower we grew to plant around the area…


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