Thinking & Feeling

“The world is a tragedy to those who feel, but a comedy to those who think.” Horace Walpole

Friday 13 July 2018

I had a dream...

I have wanted to dream of Natey since he left us. Really wanted to. In fact I was pretty desperate to dream of him. I think I felt like it was a way to still be with him and feel like he was alive. But much as I wanted to, and actually tried to, it never really happened. Eventually I just stopped trying...

We are in the states right now, on a show-and-tell trip along the East Coast, to show off Benjamin to Andrew's family and friends. The big boys are with us too, for their first trip to the States also.

We started in Washington D.C, then drove to the Jersey Shore (Long Beach Island) via Philadelphia, and then we went to New York City. We are now in Westborough (outside of Boston). Then we go on to Florida (near West Palm Beach) and then Chicago.

While in NYC on the last night, I was in those few hours in the summertime between daylight and wake-up time, when you wake-up and realise with relish that you still have time to sleep despite the lightness outside and snuggle down to sleep again.

Anyway, so I drifted off into dream-sleep and in my dream I was trying to go out for a run. I seemed to be on a farm or somewhere like that. It was very dry and dusty, especially further away from what must have been the homesteads. There were paths, and fenced enclosures with dusty ground and short dry grasses or hay. I knew I was trying to head out for a run, but I was missing something and didn't feel ready, I was walking around the paths trying to get organised...

Then I looked into the enclosure alongside where I was and it was filled with little farm animals (little goats maybe) and 'tribal'* children. They were all playing and scampering around. It was equally sweet and sad, because of how dry and desolate it all was. But they seemed happy. Then I noticed the one little boy had curly hair and seemed different to the other children. His skin was lighter and his hair was dusty brown and in big loose curls. And then I saw his hair was actually golden.

It was Natey!!! He was giggling and running and playing, as he would. He was about the same age and size as when he left...

I was so excited to see him, and to know he was ALIVE! And then almost immediately I felt sad and conflicted. My first thought was to grab him and 'rescue' him and smother him in hugs and kisses. But then I thought about how happy and carefree he seemed. Would he even know who I was? If I grabbed him would I scare him? Would it be better to leave him undisturbed? I didn't know what to do. It was such a happy-sad, joyous-conflicted feeling.

And then I woke up. I felt really weird and anxious when I woke up. But just overall 'seeing' him alive, playing carefree and happy with animals and children was somehow heartwarming.

Thank-you for visiting my dreams sweet boy with the unmistakable unruly curls.

* Think little dusty, mostly naked, skinny bushmen children in loin-cloths.

5 comments:

  1. Oh darling. These are the best dreams. Brought tears to this nanna,s eyes.
    Much love from Australia . Xxoo

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  2. Yvonne Plumbley14 July 2018 at 00:35

    Oh Jane. How I wish things could’ve been different. I’m so glad he paid you a visit, and I hope his visit brought you some modicum of peace. Sending so much love ❤️��

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  3. Jane I've followed your posts for ages and admire your strength. Today I came across something which really hit a nerve for me and I hate to have to point it out to you. Have you seen there is another blogger who has used your story of Natey and his photo? Perhaps you know of it already and are at peace with it. I thought it distasteful and disrespectful of her. If you want to look, I will post the link but I hope you are not too upset by it, I just thought you should know. Kind regards, Another mom:
    https://reluctantmom.wordpress.com/tag/jane-fraser/

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    1. Hi, yes I do know about Celeste's post (I sort of know her) I did comment on it as well. Thanks for letting me knwo though. I appreciate it. xxx

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