These two ones were pretty stressful.
This one was somewhat despairing. I got the title from the movie, but it is a little different. Now just recently I watched a movie that might relate a little to this dream. It’s called … not sure what it is called, something about the spotless sunshine of the brightless mind, I am not sure if this is the order of the words.
In my dream, there was a doctor that had invented some kind of machine that could make people young again, so that you could make people go back in their lives and therefore, erase hurtful memories.
For some reason my family thought that would be a great idea for JP. Make him not having to go through his mom and dad’s issues.
So, they made JP be 15 months old again.
I played a lot with him. It was so special, having that little tiny joyful baby again, throwing him up and down just to watch him laugh…
But then I asked a nurse, “what about all the good times we had together?”
I was thinking about the funny things he said, the time I taught him to ride his bike without training wheels, the day I went to visit him in his new home in the South and he was waiting for me at the airport.
“It’s all gone. He never lived any of those moments.”
I sat back and cried. “That is not fair. That is not natural. You can’t make those memories go away from me. You can’t take them from him. They were special. We’ll never be able to reproduce them.”
“That is implied in your choice. That is the way it is.”
I thought about my life today, so far away from him, and how he would go through his early childhood and never know who I was. And how all those memories that I had from us would be as if they had never existed. It wasn’t fun.
I was with C.J., this guy from my church in New Haven, at a stationery store. Jim, my other friend from church, was the clerk. My red BMW was parked outside. I was really happy for having just successfully parallel parked.
All of a sudden CJ’s nose is broken, I mean, cut. Jim keeps asking me if I am buying the funny looking pen that I had just taken to the counter. Meanwhile CJ’s nose is bleeding like crazy.
“Are you buying this pen, miss?”
Hello-o! The question might seem very proper since I had brought the pen to the counter of a stationary store, but… C.J.’s nose was bleeding! A pen? Was I buying a pen? I was planning to, till the guy I was with had a huge cut on his nose that I could not figure out how or why. Was he fighting outside?
“I don’t know. I can’t find my pennies.” I reply to Jim
I did not understand my answer either. Maybe I wasn’t thinking straight. I could not get my eyes off of CJ’s bleeding nose. For some reason I pictured him trying to protect me from a gang of mean looking guys with pocket knives. Back to Jim, “Would you just tell me if there is a hospital around here?”
I don’t remember his answer. Next thing I know CJ and I are in the car. I hate the fact that he’s bleeding in my car. I make it to a hospital, a public hospital that reminds me of the place where I took my brother Leo when we were 12 and 11 years old and he cut his knee at the shopping mall when we were skipping class.
They take C.J. in.
Later on the nurse comes to ask me what kind of a health plan he had, because they could only transfer him to the private section to get proper treatment if he had a health plan.
“I don’t know. Just treat his nose. What’s the big deal?”
“We really can’t do that. We need to know what kind of coverage he has.”
I guess at this point I woke up. I am glad I did. That was one stressful dream.