It’s 3.00am and I must be lonely (Matchbox 20). Actually it’s 3.01am
I just woke up from a dream. I have to write this down before I forget it. This dream felt way too real!
In my dream I was somewhere and my brother, which will be nameless so he cannot sue me for having him in my dream and telling about it. Or maybe royalties? He might want a share of the profits. Someday someone is going to read this blog and realize there’s a Pulitzer prize winning story that needs to be told. Then there’s the movie that follows the book. This is why I never use last names when telling my stories. I don’t need to ask permission from them if I don’t identify them with their last names? I don’t know. I’ll piss someone off and end up in trouble. My sister Connie already sent me an email telling me not to include her in any of my stories. But mostly I want to be polite.
In my dream my brother was leaving his garage and yelled to a friend that there was some of that wacky stuff in his place if he wanted some. He left while our friend walked toward the house. Its now his house in my dream and I follow. I don’t want any. I know if I smoke some I’ll be dumber than a box of rocks. I don’t like that feeling. So I’m not a card carrying member. With that said, if you like it, more power to you.
The next thing I know I’m in my grandparent’s house and I want my morning can of mountain dew. My dreams often jump all over the place. I’m a Mountain Dew fan. Every day I have one can of dew. On the days I don’t, I’m dragging my rear by 6.00pm. And on the second night without it I’m a brain dead zombie. For some reason my mountain dew is in the bedroom on the second floor of my grandparent’s house. The same bedroom my grandma would force me to take a siesta after lunch everyday when Id spend my summers there as a child. I hated it. I wasn’t tired. I felt like I was being punish by being forced to take a nap. I rarely slept.
I find my mountain dew and open the 16 oz bottle. Suddenly my mother enters the room. I’m high because I had a puff of the wacky stuff earlier. I don’t don’t know why I smoked it. Now I try to hid my eyes from my mother as she starts making the bed. I’m trying to get out of her way and leave when she looks into my eyes She knows I’m hiding ‘something’. In my dream I’ve been walking the whole time. I usually am, but it can switch back and forth from walking to wheelchair and back In this dream I’m never in a wheelchair. But my bottle of mountain dew is in a can holder? I make a can holders for my wheelchair. I’ll show you that process later. I don’t know how, but the can holder must be floating in space because my wheelchair isn’t there. My mother sees the bottle and grabs it. What are you drinking she demands to know. Are you drinking beer? She demands to know. I’m high, but I’m not drinking beer in my grandparents house. Why is it an issue in my dream? Its weird because my mother has a fondness for her ginger ales. Its like the pot calling the kettle black. My mother grabs the mountain dew. For some reason the label on the bottle of mountain dew is on upside down. My mother is about to turn the bottle over to read the label when I stop her. The top is off the bottle and she’ll be pouring mountain dew on the floor if she turns the bottle over to read the label. She gets angry with me. I hold the bottle to show her its just mountain dew. Look mom. Its just mountain dew. Look mom. See the label is just on upside down. Look mom. The top is off so if you turn it over to read the label you’ll spill it on the floor. But she is ferocious with me like I’ve never seen in my life. I was only trying to stop her from spilling the mountain dew. I wasn’t being mean or disrespectful. But she was fit to be tied. I could see it in her face. She had hatred for me. Kind of hate that you’d never see a mother have for her child. She looked at me as if I was a 5 year old that jut wrote on the walls with magic marker, then throwing a ball the house and just broke her priceless antique something her grandmother left her and then called her terrible names. She was letting me know that she was the adult that is always right and I’m Just a child who should never ever stop his mother from doing what ever she wanted to do. Even if it was wrong and I was trying to protect her from making a mistake.
The entire incident lasted only a few seconds. But the message was clear. My mother was the ruler in charge and I was just a child. I didn’t have any say in her world. I was just a lower class subject that was supposed to obey. I went down the stairs from that little bedroom and left. I realized as I was walking down the stairs that there was nothing left for me there anymore. What ever feeling I had in the past of that part of the country being a home was over with. In my dream I did the fastest trip across the country. Then seconds later I’m at my home. My home is somewhere in the hills of Kentucky or some place similar. It feels like I’ve been living there for a long time. I’m living in the mountains, where mountain dew is made and I’m at peace with myself. I’m standing on the front porch of my house which is high on a mountain over looking the mountain tops and valleys. I imagine my mother in her house with all her children and grandchildren around her. Even though I knew she couldn’t hear me, I asked her if it was worth it? I felt like a spirit looking down on my mother. She’s on a throne. All her children, their spouses, their children, grandchildren and great grandchildren all sitting on the floor looking up to my mother as if they were her subjects and she was their queen. She admires her flock and smiles as if she was admitting to stealing my money, proud of it because she was going to give them all the millions ($10 million might be a conservative number) as she says yes it was worth it! One of the grandchildren looks at my mother and says, who are you talking too grandma? She takes a drag on her cigarette and a drink of her beer and says, no one. No one that matters!
I had this dream on 11-25-2014. I often remember my dreams, but usually for only a few minutes after I wake up. But this was so real. When I heard my mother say no one. No one that matters. I woke up feeling like she just slapped me in the face. Like she was telling me that ”I” knew they were never going to give me any money. Why am I taking so long to accept the truth that I’m not part of ”their” family.
February 14 was my mother’s birthday. I guess that makes her 77. No I didn’t call her. I don’t know her number. She used to come out here and visit for a week once a year. She would come the first or second week of April. I worked for H&R Block. That time of year I worked 50 a week preparing income taxes. To me, it seemed like she chose that time on purpose. She’d bring someone(s) (son, daughter, grandson or granddaughter, often 2 people) so she wouldn’t be alone while I was away at work. It was in 2002 when the pain in my shoulders was to the point were I finally admitted to my mother, family and friends that all wasn’t well in lollipop land. My mother and family looked at me like, what do you want us to do?
My friend Jackie made me go see a doctor. I put it off for 9 months or so. I kept telling her I would. Finally Jackie said, you make the appointment or I will.
I have no faith in Santa Clara Valley Medical Center, but I was referred to a good physical therapist. I guess even a broken clock is right twice a day. First, he was impressed with how independent I am. I know I work my ass off to be independent, but most people, especially some of the people closest to me like my family don’t have a clue.
Well, the diagnosis was as bad as I expected. The therapist told me my shoulders are wearing out. He said Its common in high functioning quadriplegics. We use our shoulders for everything. He told me I need to get an electric wheelchair right away. So in 2003 when my mother came to visit I told her my shoulders were bad and I was going to order an electric wheelchair. She didn’t care. She just sat there drinking her beer and smoking her cigarettes.
She was leaving on Saturday, so Friday night I brought up the money. She and my father invested my disability money for everyone in the family but me. Whenever I tried taking to my father about it he’d just say, if you want money from me, hire a Lawyer and sue me. I’ll talk more about this later. That Friday night my mother sat there drinking her beer, smoking her cigarettes and said, you got all the money you ever deserved from us.
The next morning my brother brought her to the airport. She barely said goodbye. The next year April comes around and I haven’t heard from my mother. I give her a call that lasted maybe 2 minutes at best. She was busy and wasn’t going to visit that year. A few months later I tried calling her and the number was disconnected. It turns out my mother and father built themselves a new house and they never felt the need to give me their new address or telephone number. My father has never called me since I moved to California. And he hasn’t taken my phone calls since May 5, 1997. That was the day he instructed his secretaries to never take a call from me ever again.
To tell you the truth, I don’t even know where my parents live. I heard they had a house in Canada. They had one somewhere in Negaunee township, but I heard it blew up. I guess it had a gas leak and exploded. Then I heard they moved to Texas.
As for the electric wheelchair, I had it all picked out. All I needed to do was give the vendor my insurance company’s telephone number. I couldn’t do it. If I get an electric wheelchair, then I’m giving up. I don’t know how to give up.
Unlike my family that gave up on me because they love my money more than they love me, I don’t know how to give up.