About Cheerio

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In general I am a cheery and energetic person. But I am enshrouded in a cloak of iron. That cloak is the weight of greiving my son, whom I've lost to adoption.

Saturday, June 24, 2017

a dream

I had a dream last night.  
Oh wait, let me back up a wee bit.
(photo from http://www.dreams.co.uk/sleep-matters-club/wp-content/uploads/2015/12/woman-dreaming.jpg)

Last night when I went to bed, I was thinking of my son.  I am in a different place than I was a year ago, and I try to not think about him too much or too long (obsessively?). It is difficult now that I am back in school.  My long-range goal is to become a counselor or therapist focusing on post-adoption support.  Unlike previous college papers, I am not playing it safe anymore.  I am going to take the risk of writing about real adoption issues (for adoptees & for original parents) other than the right for equal access to OBC.  Therefore the adoptee perspective is central in my current research paper.  Translated to mean it is virtually impossible to NOT think about how this research may or may not relate to my son, virtually impossible to NOT think about  him.
Nevertheless, as I was trying to drift off to sleep, A thought wandered in that it would be nice to see him in a dream.  I quickly rejected this idea.  I DON’T WANT TO DREAM ABOUT HIM, and tried to redirect my thoughts of what it would be nice to dream about. My mind went to Pussy Willow.  I could dream about her.  I questioned myself - why should I dream of things cannot be?  Why dream of sadness?  My Willow Puff has been gone almost four years now.  I loved her and still miss her, but I should dream about something positive. 

Aren’t you glad to hear the ramblings of the Cheerio mind at midnight?

Alas, my mind did wander off and sleep did come.  Then I had the dream.

In my dream, I don’t recall Mr. Cheerio being there.  It was like a family gathering, but no one was distinguishable except for me and one particular family member whom I have a tense relationship with (I’ll just call her Eliza – not her real name).  We were at home. I don’t know if it was supposed to be my own or Eliza’s.  In this family gathering, my son was there with someone else.  I didn’t see him or who he was with (his aparents?  his current fiancĂ©?  his own futuristic family and children), but I knew or felt he was there.  I was letting the ball in his court – at least that’s what I think was happening, because I did not approach him, and we did not talk in this dream.

What did happen was that Eliza hugged him, or he hugged her.  I don’t recall exactly.
At some point I had my back to the group, washing dishes, when Eliza came in and said he left.  I repeated “Oh, he’s leaving?” And she said, "No, he left".  I felt a surge of emotion.  I was angry that she got to hug him but I didn't.  I was hoping to at least say goodbye, and now I didn’t even have the chance.

I ran out the front door and saw their car going down the driveway.  As I proceeded to run , the car pulled onto the street and turned right.  Because of the large privacy fence that ran down the length of the driveway, as soon as they turned, I lost sight of the car.

I still ran down the driveway yelling, “Come Back! Come back!  Please! Please come back! Come back!  Please!”  I ran, yelling and waving my arms and hoping the car would reappear.  But it did not.  I don’t recall in my dream if I just stood there, but it felt as though I fell to my knees begging him to come back.

So that’s my dream.  

I woke up and wondered why, of all the family members who could have been in my dream – why Eliza?  Why not Mr. Cheerio?  Why not a family member who listens and supports me regarding my son?

I also ask myself, if it is symbolic of me giving him his space?  Is it a mistake to let the ball in his court?  I just am so careful to NOT be like Eliza in real life.  One reason our relationship is tense is because I feel that she is manipulative.  I never want him to ever feel like I am manipulative in anything I do or write.

In the end, I suppose, the desperate plea for him to come back indicates that even though I try to cope by pushing thoughts of him away, I don’t honestly want him to go away. Even thought I often tell myself these days, try to just forget he exists.  (This is new for me.  Of all the denial and emotion stuffing I did when he was still a boy, I don't remember ever trying to forget he exists.  I have reasoned that I don't deserve him and had no right to refer to him as my son.  But I didn't try to "forget" about him.)

I suppose too, the dream is expression of my fear of losing him again (third time’s a charm, right???)
… so close… and yet so far … so very far apart we are…

I had a dream last night