Mornings

It's 9:38 am.  Keith and Mikey left for scout camp at 4:30 am.   Without Ian.   This was to be the year all 3 of them got to go together.   They had been talking about it for years.  I told Mikey I wouldn't be surprised if he felt Ian with him and to be sure and tell me about it when he got  home.   Lucy's still asleep--I know, 9:38 am.  It's giving me time to get a few things done and have quiet time to myself.   Besides, maybe she's doing what I do whenever I can--trying to dream about Ian.

I've heard several people say that mornings, when you first wake up, are the worst when you are grieving because for an instant, you wake and then have to re-remember how bad things are.  For me, mornings--especially now that school is out, are an opportunity.   I'm a dreamer.  I dream every night and usually remember them all.  Morning dreams are better though.  You can almost make yourself dream if you have long enough in bed.  I drift in and out 10 times on a good morning and can go back into the same dream if  I want to. 

I try to get time with my son in the mornings.   I'm not very successful.  This week,   I've dreamed about being a missionary several times.  I've dreamed about college.  I've dreamed about being kidnapped in exotic locations and many other things.  But I figure odds are in my favor.  The more dreams I have,  the more of them can have Ian in them.

Keith had a dream a week or so ago where Ian actually brought him a message.  While I was extremely jealous,  it scares me a little bit to think what message he would bring me from the other side.  My mom only remembers one dream about my brother in all these years and it was about him telling her if she didn't shape up, she couldn't be with him.  Wow,  my mom's pretty straight-arrow.  I can't think of much she could change. 

I also hope Mikey dreams of Ian.   I worry about him remembering.  I have so few memories of Stan.   I was younger, but not all that much.   I remember that today is the anniversary of his death--not technically.  It was the 18th of June, but it was the Monday after Father's Day.  I remember scenes from photos in the Christmas albums.  Is that actually a memory?    I hope we talk and look at photos and laugh enough for Mikey to lock in the memories of his older brother.  

Lucy brought up Ian this week.  That was good.  We got Keith a BBQ for Father's Day.  We were talking in the car and she said,    "Remember when Ian made chicken wings marinated in root beer and peanut butter?  They were so good!"  --and they were.  She does several things now that I think are in memory of  Ian.  She now loves the Beatles;  She wants to watch "Whose line is it anyway?";  She wants to name her son Garrett--that one is obvious.  There are a few others but I can't remember them.

So mornings are a luxury,  drifting in and out of sleep to catch a glimpse of my son.   I won't  pray for a dream again though.  I got an answer and what God gave me wasn't  happy.  This week maybe I'll just daydream  and fantasize that both my sons are together with their dad at scout camp.  Yeah,  I like that.