what dreams
I live in a basement, underneath a young couple who own the house. They are sweet. When I moved in, I learned that the she-half of the couple was pregnant, due at the end of this month. As the end of this month came closer, I thought more and more about her, wondered how she was, when the baby was coming, etc.
I should note, this couple, my landlords, are nothing to me but footsteps and voices coming from above -- I never actually see them. I've exchanged emails with the he-half of them a few times. Arranged for them to share my wireless. Arranged for them to come in and make repairs while I am out of the house, etc. But otherwise, they are strangely invisible to me, though always present, just above me, walking and talking and cooking -- the smell of their food comes to me through the vents. I am often greeted when I come home by the warm smell of basmati rice, or something that smells spicy, like chili, or maybe curry.
They are mysterious and invisible, but they are so sweetly mundane. I have been thinking about the she-half and her baby, coming soon, coming when? Not sure. Wondering. Then, a few nights ago, I dreamed about them all. I dreamed that they were about to go to the hospital so the baby could be born, but they were all very sad, dejected, despondent, because the she-half of the couple had a brain tumor and they knew that she would die as soon as the baby was born. In the dream, I saw the he-half of the couple, he was so distraught. Seeing him, I became distraught. I woke feeling terrible. Sad.
Then, two days later, an email came from the he-half. Subject line: "Oh Baby!" Complete with pictures of the fresh, gorgeous, healthy baby and his fresh, gorgeous, healthy and fully alive mom. Wonderful. I scanned over the pictures with a warm relief, then burst into sudden, unexpected tears when I saw they've named the baby Isaac. The name of my dead brother. Death. Life. Death. Always just spinning, in some kind of dual orbit, a binary galaxy. Life. Death. Life. And we're left to puzzle over the meanings, if any.
I should note, this couple, my landlords, are nothing to me but footsteps and voices coming from above -- I never actually see them. I've exchanged emails with the he-half of them a few times. Arranged for them to share my wireless. Arranged for them to come in and make repairs while I am out of the house, etc. But otherwise, they are strangely invisible to me, though always present, just above me, walking and talking and cooking -- the smell of their food comes to me through the vents. I am often greeted when I come home by the warm smell of basmati rice, or something that smells spicy, like chili, or maybe curry.
They are mysterious and invisible, but they are so sweetly mundane. I have been thinking about the she-half and her baby, coming soon, coming when? Not sure. Wondering. Then, a few nights ago, I dreamed about them all. I dreamed that they were about to go to the hospital so the baby could be born, but they were all very sad, dejected, despondent, because the she-half of the couple had a brain tumor and they knew that she would die as soon as the baby was born. In the dream, I saw the he-half of the couple, he was so distraught. Seeing him, I became distraught. I woke feeling terrible. Sad.
Then, two days later, an email came from the he-half. Subject line: "Oh Baby!" Complete with pictures of the fresh, gorgeous, healthy baby and his fresh, gorgeous, healthy and fully alive mom. Wonderful. I scanned over the pictures with a warm relief, then burst into sudden, unexpected tears when I saw they've named the baby Isaac. The name of my dead brother. Death. Life. Death. Always just spinning, in some kind of dual orbit, a binary galaxy. Life. Death. Life. And we're left to puzzle over the meanings, if any.
posted by reasonably prudent poet at 8:55 PM
1 Comments:
oh Isaac,
wow
touching dream-reality-dreaming
Isaac
made my birdy stomach twitter
the tuftster
Post a Comment
<< Home