Wednesday, February 27, 2008

Without a Child

I woke up this morning thinking that Isis was alive. I've had a few mornings like this in the past 6 years since her death and they are never, ever easy. It usually takes me about 2 hours just to get to the point where I can function and carry on with my day. Then I spend all day in a melancoly haze crying at the drop of a hat and wondering if I'm really alive in this reality.

Last night's dream was borderline nightmare. I dreamt that Dane and I lived together in a house that belonged to Kevin. The actual house was a carbon copy of the house I lived in w/ my parents that had a pool. Kevin's family was trying to hurry us out of the house and a week before we were set to leave we got a tip that Kevin had buried Isis underneath the pool. We dug up the pool and broke through the tile to find that yes, a coffin was there. In fact two coffins were there. Isis's and another man. At that point Dane told me to leave because Isis's coffin had not been shut and I didn't want to see what was there. I left to find a sticky that had the number to "the court" on it so I could tell them what we found. While I searched for the sticky, I looked outside and saw Isis in her coffin, but she was alive! She was still 15 months old, even though in my dream it had been two years since her death. My dream did not afford me explainations as to why or how she had survived in a coffin for two years with no food, water or oxygen let alone why she hadn't aged. Probably because I will always picture her as she was when she died.

So Isis was alive and we immediately began the logistics of her arrival back in to my life. I was upset that I had given away all her clothes and belongings since I should have known she would come back for me. I did have her teddy bear though (and I do in real life). Her father, though not in my dream as her real life father, was still very evil - almost Draconian. He could poof in and out of rooms and carried a trident like staff. He even said "I was glad when she died two years ago because I couldn't afford the child support but my life is different now so I'm excited that she is alive and I can play with her." *poof*

The dream, especially the excavation part, is sticking with me quite vividly and as I said, I awoke expecting her to be with me. It took me about 10 minutes to sort out what was real and what wasn't and I quickly grabbed a tablet and pen and started writting down aspects of my dream so I wouldn't forget them because everything seemed so symbolic. I called Dane and told him (he's in Portland) and he felt bad he wasn't here to support me and felt even worse that he feels he is partly to blame. I'll explain.

This past week with Damion being in the hospital and the reality of that situation and the realization of what could have been combined with a hap-hazard question to Dane about what his opinion was on Isis's death (he met with the police about 8 months after it happened to review the autopsy notes and findings - I couldn't do it) are probably the roots of this dream and the funk I've been in for days. Dane believes that while Kevin did not intend to kill Isis, he feels he acted out of anger and perhaps a little bit of drunkeness. The mere thought of someone being angry enough at Isis to shake her to death whilst banging her head on furniture is enough to send me to convulsions and I've never accepted that. It seems that I am started the slow process of accepting the reality of how she died and how it impacts me, both then and now. I should note that my parents (and even me to some lingering degree) believe that Isis was previously injured while out with her birth father (she did have bruising on her head to support this theory) and that the blow she suffered through Kevin's hands, which was not in anger or drunken rage, sent Isis into the state that she eventually died in. We've all heard of second blows, specifically football players and such that receive head trama and then get one final blow, usually insignificant compared to others, that puts them out, if not of life at least the game of ball. Whether Isis died at Kevin's hands or due to an injury related somehow to her father does not lessen the extent of her injuries or the brutality that she endured. I can't bear that thought and have actively pushed that thought out of my mind for 6 years now. But we all know that we can't run forever.

I fear that I'm starting (albeit belated) another stage of grief that is perhaps the hardest, if the stages can even be quantified that way. To add insult to injury, I attended a work function today that took place at the Seattle Children's Museum - chalk full of kids around Isis's would-be age and the age she was when she died. As if that wasn't enough, the people hosting the meeting, obviously museum employees, spent about 15 minutes explaining the museum's mission and one of the (smart) safety rules they have is that no adult can enter without a child. That statement made sense the first time. But it was repeated, I counted, seven more times. And with each mention it was harder and harder to bite back the tears. You are not allowed without a child. Don't any of you have children? You can't come in without a child. Without a child. Without a child.

And that is what I am at the end of the day. Without a child.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Don’t worry about these types of dreams. They happen to everyone that has been in a traumatic set of events that had change their lives.

These dreams are not reminders that you have forgotten. Because if you had, then there would have not been anything in the dream you would have recognized.

These dreams do sometimes represent questions however, that you still have not answered at least for yourself.