Posted by: Lizabeta | February 28, 2008


… months and months will go by without one. Then…


Suddenly, an impossibly vivid dream. It would take me hours to describe the depth of these dreams.

They run into each other in the park and I watch from afar. One knows who the other is but doesn’t say anything. They reverse places.

Or, I call and beg, as a person with nothing to lose would beg.

Beg: call upon in supplication; entreat;
          [ implore, pray]
     2: make a solicitation or entreaty for something; request urgently

Beg, plead for him to just meet, just talk, just see… just for a few minutes… He hangs up and I know its all my fault.

Or, all of the sudden I’m packing my son off onto a plane, he’s going to be gone for two weeks. Sometimes I know that his father is going to be surprised when my son shows up on his doorstep and I pray for the entire two weeks he is gone that everything is going okay. Sometimes, in my dreams, it does, sometimes it doesn’t.

Sometimes his father knows and has arranged for my son to visit. My son is nervous, wants to be on his best behavior, is worried his ADHD will get in the way of making a good impression. I recount to him how hyper his father was in high school. You get the ADD from me, I tell him. You get the H part from him. He’s gone for weeks and I don’t hear a word and I pray the whole time he’s gone that it’s going well. Sometimes it does, sometimes it does not.

I run into his father at some random place, like the airport or Vegas or the grocery store. I’m with my son, I see him. I know his father has seen us. I want to approach or yell Ahoy in greeting or tell my son his father is just across the aisle… but I don’t. I’m frozen. I choose not to. I can’t. I do and he dissapears. I do and he yells at me. I do and they finally get to meet and talk. I’m about to, but a stroller appears, his wife is pushing it. I don’t know how she’ll react. I don’t know how my son will react. I’m frozen.

There are a hundred variations on this. But they revolve around my son and his father meeting for the first time, getting to know each other, not knowing each other or breaking each others hearts. I wake up anxious, upset, though sometimes it takes me hours to realize why. Sometimes I wake up and I remember the dream, but I’m anxious and unbearably sad. The dream seemed so real, and my son seemed so happy. But all is the same, with his adolescence hanging on the horizon, a cold front of self doubt moving in to take away my son’s shining smile.


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