I had a dream last night that I just cannot stop thinking about, it was truly odd. I remember crying and being very upset because I knew the ashes inside the nice oak box were not my brothers. I saw him walking around the house-although at points it was my brother when he was much younger. I talked to him and he said he had to do it and I think that meant that he had to die. But I remember screaming at my mom and dad saying it wasn't my brother in the box, and they were getting ready to go to the funeral. I ran to my brothers room and opened the door and saw him in there cleaning up and re organizing (something that we've been doing since he actually died) and I tried to talk to him, but it was if he couldn't listen to me just kept saying it was something he had to do. I was so angry because he was alive and I didn't want him to get made into ashes. I was so frantic and I couldn't understand why he was so adamant about telling me that he had to do this. It was just very strange because he was a younger version of himself, mostlikely when he was eight, nine or ten. I woke up startled because in my dream I was so angry that no one believed me that it wasn't my brother.
This is the third or fourth vivid dream of my brother that I've had since he died.
A few days afterwards I had a dream that he and I were going for a ride in his car and that after the car ride I would have to say goodbye for good to him. I remember in the dream telling my father that it would be so hard to say goodbye and I remember seeing my brother get into the driver side door of the car. And in my dream I felt this huge dread with the thought of never seeing him again.
Then I had another dream that my brother came back, but he didn't have some of his skin and his eyes were broken-like they didn't work properly and we were trying to track down where his eyes went to and where his skin was. And I gave him his cell phone so he could call his friends. You see in real life my parents decided to donate his corneas and skin and heart valves. I just remember being really happy that he came back, although I was concerned with trying to get him put back together.
It's been 31 days since he died. I remember that night like it was yesterday. I remember driving to north adams thinking he was at his friends house and I had a vision of my brother on the side of the road-bloody and crying. I started to cry while driving because I was so worried that something had happened. I couldn't shake the image out of my mind. I turned around to go home after I found he wasn't parked outside his friend's apartment. I just had a very unsettled feeling in my stomach. As I drove around the bend in my road I saw my father's friend's car parked in my front yard. Like he had driven so fast he almost hit the house. I got out of the car and my father said "It's over...Brian's dead."
I didn't shut the car down behind me, my arms went limp. I knew I had to walk forward but I just couldn't look at anyone. I walked past my mother and my grandmother and cried that we needed to call our minister. My stomach became a rock and I just sat. I then had to call friends and family. I called our uncle jim, our cousin charlie, his friend jessie and his friend from infancy-james' parents.
sometimes...sometimes when I'm driving home there is this little hope deep inside that when I get home my brother will be there. I miss his voice, I miss his smile, I miss his grumpy attitude, I miss when he use to yell at me. I miss hearing him type on the computer while I watch tv in the living room. I miss when he would yell at me to get off the computer. I miss teasing him about his "girl" friends..........
It's been 31 days and 1 hour....that was when I began writing this...now it's been 31 days and 1 hour and 12 minutes
"Can I sail through the changing ocean tides
Can I handle the seasons of my life" - Stevie Nicks
*subject line written by Stevie Nicks
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