Dreams — the good and the sad

Sometimes, writing things down helps to get things out…and since Charlotte is about to wake up and it’s a lot faster to type than it is to write (what is this world coming to?) I am writing it here.  This has nothing to do with the kids or our daily life, so you are welcome to skip over this if you want.  Really, you’re welcome to skip over every single post I make, because who is actually making you read any….why would you need my permission?  Whatever, I gave it anyway….

Aside from my grandparents, Clay is the only person really close to me that has passed away.  And it was really sudden and unexpected.  After he died, I dreamt about him.  He was in my dreams probably 4 nights out of 7 the first few weeks.  Then down to 3.  Then maybe once a week.  And when I went weeks without dreaming of him, I panicked.

It’s a horrible, awful feeling to search your mind for your friend’s voice and have a hard time finding it.  To try and remember one of his crazy, silly faces or the sound of his laugh and wonder if you have it just right.  It makes me really mad that I can’t just call him up and tell him about a hilarious episode of Curb that Danny and I just watched (Oh, man, I just know they would quote that to each other all the time).  In my dreams, I woke up always remembering those little things.  But that kind of quit happening.  Lately, I will dream about him once every few months.

There are 3 constants in every dream I have of Clay.  #1 is that he hugs me.  #2 is his hair.  Weird, right?  Why would his hair always be the same in every dream I have of him?  His hair has been a thousand different things:  super short, long, permed (hilarious), shaggy, etc.  But in my dreams, it’s always just like it is in a certain picture I have of him.  In between long and short.  Kinda shaggy/surfer style.  #3 is that he is always telling me goodbye.

A couple weeks ago, I walked into the house that Clay lived in…the one we all hung out in…and I got really emotional.  And since then, I have been thinking a lot about him, more than usual.

And I think that’s why last night I dreamt of Clay.  He was leaving, and I wasn’t happy about it.  I knew he shouldn’t go, but he told me he had to (in the weird dreaming way where no one says a word, but you can kinda talk without making any sound).  It was short.  I was sad, but kinda happy because I got to see him again.  And he looked really, really good.  He was happy, even though he was sad he was leaving.  And it sucked it was just a dream.

Take pictures.  Because when you have a hard time remembering smiles and gestures and even just the silly way someone cocks their head at an angle when they’re being goofy, you’ll wish you had pictures to remind you.  I wish I had a picture of Danny and Clay in the last 5 years.  Oh, Danny loved Clay.  When they were together, you could just tell they ‘got’ each other.  They could talk for hours and hours about lots of things: The Simpsons, guns and gillie suits, video games, etc., and if Danny was gonna go hang out, he would want to go jam with Clay.  Or maybe he was just up until 3:00am playing video games with Clay.  Or maybe just watching tv in that horribly dark basement.  I wish I had a picture of them doing all these things.  I do have pictures here and there, but not of the silly moments that seem pointless at the time, but are the ones you remember most later on.

 

 

Unrelated, today Charlotte Clayton is 15 weeks old.  And guess what?  She laughed.  Ohhhhh it was so stinking cute.  I tickled her right under her fat little chin and she did it.  She did the deep-voiced giggle that isn’t really a giggle.  It’s more like a grunt.  And it was hilarious and adorable.

 

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