Aug 7 - Last Night I Had a Dream

I have had the great good fortune, if that is indeed what it is, to have not suffered dreams of Brandon. Perhaps I should feel sad that I have not been dreaming more about him, but I don’t think so. I think that it is a good thing that I have not been waking every morning with an ever-greater ache that the moving figure in my head is in reality smothered in earth at Lake Park Hills Cemetery.

Cheerful, yes?

I’m just so sad because last night I got to see and talk to and touch my brother. It would have been better if I had not.

THE DREAM

Brandon’s body was resurrected twice by me. I had this ability, though it seemed that I could do nothing else. The first time was a disaster. His body did not move correctly (arms drawn inward as I always imagined them doing during the seizure), nor did he talk properly, and his mind was fractured, with all the loving-kindness of a viper.

The second time was perfect. Brandon came back and swam, laughed, walked, talked, and lived like anyone would have ever secretly hoped he might. We were all swimming in a pond less than a mile from my house which I have always regarded as particularly beautiful. What’s more, he felt such gratitude for being alive again and made a point to thank me for bringing him back to life so that he could have such fun.

The pond from my dream…now corrupted.

That statement,“Thanks for bringing me back,” has eaten me alive today. I can’t think of anything else.