surprise visit

this morning was a strange one for a change.  it is amusing and amazing what depth and surprises the subconscious can hold.  it often is surprising to see what your mind could portray in a dream- i think it is very fortunate certain moments in a dream cannot be caught, as it often include much tabooed ideas and situations.  as an insomniac, i do not get to dream very often, if remember it at all.  often it's just fragmented thoughts that leaves me very puzzled.  however, this morning was graced by rather clear, perhaps too clear of thoughts.  one of those dreams which are even more vivid than the reality. the ones that you almost wish that it was true (well, partially anyways.) sleeping well has been a real nice change from the bustle of the town.  and i am somewhat glad though i woke with enough tears and snots to wonder whether i had a water main problem in my sinus.

i have no idea where i was or doing what, but at certain point, i remember carrying a hand ax, running towards to my parents' house, being really upset for some reason and hoping to cut things off. i wonder if i was planning to ax murder my own family- see, a typical example of bottled thoughts expressed in hyper-exaggerated way (do tell me if you know of a one single adult who have not had a thought of inflicting some sort of violence to one's family unit.  i will send them a certificate.), which makes me a bit embarrassed.  i know my parents are having a very tough time indeed with recent brother incident and all.  and when i have stated my intentions for next couple years, including the choice of living location, they were not amused at all.

  in fact, before gabe's incident, i was ex-communicated for a good while.  and since then, my understanding is that they can be notified about my personal life (without sudden stroke or something, which i was very worried about), but without any active commentaries or acknowledgement.  i believe it will take load of time, so it is all really fine.  there's nothing i could do personally to make the transition easier, unless i dropped the whole transition, which is not an option.  there have been many unsaid frustrations from both parties and my mom still wishes that i would 'settle and live in the city,' implying and suggesting a whole set of different possibilities. anyways.

so mad monkey ran there with an ax (i wonder if it has to do with anything that since it's been warm, every time we make fire, mr. salamander has to go out and chop some logs to kindling with a hand ax.  just like last night), being all huffy mad etc.  then there he was, my little wee brother, as if he was seven-eight years old.  there's a very nice picture of him during one of my cousin's wedding back in the 80s.  he is wearing a navy-white striped polo shirt, a beige pants (may be corduroy?) and leaning against a tree that could fit three of him in its width.  so it was him from that picture.

he simply said: i need to go, but it's all going to be okay.  i held him and broke into tears: do you know how much i love you?  and the boy simply said (with that gabe smile), i need to go, but i am fine and so will you be.  and yes, i do know how much you love me.  but i couldnt let go.  i stood there like a small tree, welling up with great sense of- hopelessness, loss, pain, love, yearning, joy, warmth... i love you very much. then he said: i know. i will see you, no worries.

and then i woke, half-choking to tears, snots, all kinds of mucus and all stuffed to suffocation point.  red eyed.  and i was consoled by minnow, no questions asked, just a simple embrace and a quick cup of water.  as morning sun was hiding behind somewhat silly hazy clouds over the hills, i slowly weaved the melancholic areas between morning consciousness and half-sleeping tears.  as i was being held like a small child myself.  all mumbling and teary, talking softly into the pillow about what i have just seen.  

it is 24th of june today.  in two more days, it would be another land mark, a two-month anniversary of my wee brother's departure. i have been recently evolved into a child-sitter.  and i took her to manchester to see the phil concert, holding her hands, carrying a box of biscuits.  buying a small plastic tub of ice cream during intermissions and skipping down the stairs to take her to mommy and daddy (who are in the phil as well).  i have not been close to small children in a long while. and this kiddie isnt exactly a small one either.  that age, eight-nine, when they start to figure the world and self, piece by piece.

in comparison, there's no way that i couldve taken care of my brother in similar manner, as we were too close in age.  in fact, most of our interactions were sprinkled with good bits of sarcasm and sibling rivalry.  but there were signs of tenderness, if hidden somewhat under the brilliant display of panache and power-struggle between us.  his birthday gifts i picked out year after year, with huge long complaint about how 'i get nothing.'  the duty-free shopping at every instance i cross the border: the usual carton of cigs, either davidoff or dunhill, fully knowing that 'i will pay you back later' means 'thanks.'  earlier this wk, we were over at friends' house for tea, on the day related to her departed brother- about thirteen years ago i think.  and the air was joyful, however, with tinge of blue. like small bubbles that dotted the air. and i wondered what i would be like many years later, on many different anniversaries related to my wee brother.  and then this morning.

i wonder if my head have made up the whole thing (i am sure), though there's always a slight hope for the supernaturals, a wish that it really was a message for me, to let another small piece of grief out.  in canada, i feel that i cannot really express these feelings as i still feel that i need to be strong for others, mainly mom/dad/granny.  i thought once i am here in the hills, i may be faced with various facets of this life-long process of living with my wee brother. and yes, his presence does weave in and out in various occasions and thoughts, actions and events, though this morning's teary dream was one of the most intense i have experienced so far.

like a true obsessive-compulsive, i count this as the fourth time monkey let tears through this particular ordeal.  the first was when i was talking to dad about 'how' to bring him home- as we decided to bring him neat and tidy.  the second time was in the middle of the night while minnow was doing orch tour, that i felt completely utterly alone.  and there was a third incident a bit ago here in the hills, the night smudged with tears, triggered with nothing, really, then quickly dying the entire dark fabric of soft night with violent stains of anger and suffering. then today.

it is not that i am proud of holding my emotions in. in fact, i think it's a rather silly thing. but i dont want to be always letting things out so easily either, especially if the 'thing' holds a great importance.  i would like to pay proper attention and give it all the space it needs to express itself.  such as grief. love. loss.  i miss my wee brother dearly and i wonder where he is and what he's up to.  sometimes his msn messenger still writes random things on my chat windows and being the generation of my own time, i cannot help but to peek his farcebook profile once in a while to see- well, just to see.  i love him and for long as i am concerned, he's still my favorite family member.  it was nice to see him being so wee cute this morning. i didnt let him go. perhaps i should have. perhaps next time, i could stand and wave him a good journey.