wings

I was dreaming, and in this dream I was terrified. I was in another country, Amer- ca, and I was so upset I couldn't think clearly. Something was dreadfully wrong. Images of my childhood rushed past me, or was it that I was rushing past them; in my dream I was flying. Disoriented, frightened, miserably sad, and mostly con- fused felt myself crying in my sleep, unable to wake up. My name being...not cal- led, but I felt summoned just the same. His face, distorted by fear and anguish, so close and then so far. Questioning me: I had no answers. Love, that I could feel, but it was a sad love, one of goodbyes and regrets. From this dream, I awaken at last, felling lost, lonely, and anxious for some sort of consolation. I could hear sobbing in the next room, my mother, and it was the sort of crying one does not seem to be able to stop. I flew from the bed, my teddy bears forgotten, as I could feel maturity building with every step to the doorway of the master bedroom. She held out the fax paper, sodden from her tears, and gulped a gasp of air. 'We are flying home at once,' she managed, before covering her face and beginning to cry once more. The fax read : PLEASE COME HOME IMMEDIATELY. KIETH HAS BEEN KILLED IN A CAR ACCIDENT FEW HOURS AGO. WE NEED YOU. PLEASE COME HOME. MOM AND DAD. So the cousin, that I loved more than my brothers, was dead. The sweet boy- man that was the biggest inspiration to my life was gone forever. I can't help but wonder if that dream wasn't the final communication between us, I felt so close. And I also wonder if it's true, was I any help or comfort to him in those dizzying chaotic whirlings of flight and emotion. I pray that I was, for I love him now as I always did, and I always will

I believe that he will always be with me, and that I was very special to him. He proved that by visiting with me that last time. I believe that when we die, we do go on, in some form, and we do come to visit every once in a while, those we love.