It’s 13 O clock on March 26. The time between reality and dream, it is where you aren’t quite convinced of the dream you are in but are just seconds away from believing. I just woke up to look at my cell phone, I was only asleep for 3 minutes. In my mind I think ‘this is gonna be a long night’ I try to roll back over to catch the rest of that dream. After tossing and turning I put my hands up and surrender to the fact this night’s sleep is a wash. The dream I had runs though my mind in slow motion, paying attention to the little details I probably created after I woke up and trying to over analyze her words.
I had a dream where I sat with my mom at a table where she had a backpack in her lap, we talked about how she was dead but came back, a common topic. She unzips the backpack and begins to pull out paper after paper, the header on the pages has my business name ‘TOO MUCH TOO SOON.” She starts to cry in a soft voice ‘I’m so proud of you’ with each page pulled. I start to cry in the dream, it feels so real and the cry feels so damn good. In my bed my eyes have fully adjusted to the darkness in my room and two thoughts cross my mind. I need some chocolate milk and that was the most intense dream I have had in recent memory.
These dreams are recurrent, my parents rising from the afterworld to see me in my dreams. I am blessed but there are nights I swear I will never sleep again because the pain from watching my parents die night after night. I have some dreams that make my hand crunch into a fist and squeeze tight for a second. I get watery eyes thinking all the beauty my parents have given me and how much beauty they had and have missed. What brings me back down to a calm state is my belief. I believe in angels, the afterlife, messages in dreams, my parents watching over me, all things spiritual. My faith eases the pain at 13 O Clock when surviving that hour of life versus dream is the only task on my mind. I need the comfort of my beliefs and thoughts to save me. I sit and try to make my mind wonder by distracting myself. It at this hour I am plagued of my mistakes made, the bills I never paid, the money I spent on unnecessary goods and the relationships I have tossed away. I criticize myself instead of console myself, I revert back to the Andrew who was disappointed how much he lost control of life and was certain wouldn’t amount to anything. I start to question why my parents died and what I must do in their passing. I run through a list of to-do’s for tomorrow, none of which will ever really get done but it’s an attempt to put my mind to sleep. 13 O clock is the bane of my existence, it’s where I remember yesterdays and tomorrow, I know I will see this time for the rest of my life. 13 O clock in the world of grieving is common, it’s where your thoughts, emotions and memories take you and when you feel most alone. It is where you can only see the devastation around you and what you don’t have. Today my 13 O clock is about my mom because it was 2 years ago today she passed, today I welcomed 13 O clock.
I love you mom.