I don't remember my dreams. When I have they are fragments at best that stay with me when I wake but even those slip away from memory very quickly. I woke up twice during the night to the sounds of a rat. I know we have them in the house. All old East Austin houses have them. I have come to terms with that fact. I here them in the living room walls sometimes and in the kitchen under the stove. But never ever in my room. Which now that i think bout it, sounded more like someone messing with electrical cords and dropping them. Its as if the rat needed to recharge their iphones but was just clumsy.
The dream. Jail. I'm waiting to see my Uncle and Grandfather I noticed how nice the visiting room was. It felt more like an Avis car lobby. Palm trees and all, we were waiting to get a shiny new car rental. Not in an actual prison. Speaking of shiny, my Grandfather had a gold plated nose cover and gold chains that connected from his head piece to his wrist. So it was a cross between an Egyptian Pharaoh and a James Bond villain. He also moved slow and talked soft, which freaked me out. I was wearing my new shoes my girlfriend sent me. The dress shoes make sense was all week long I had been breaking them in walking wearing them around town on my errands, ouch.
My Uncle talked at a seperate table talking to my Mom. My Grandfather, who now began to look alot like a regal and happy Omar Sharif, was sitting working. He either had an abacus or was inputting numbers in an account payable spreadsheet. Oh, maybe he was an ancient accountant that logged on all the gold and tributes from conquered subject? Or a Toltec, bending math and numbers to reshape the universe at his own will.
Rat Iphone noise again. I turned on the lights, I wanted to meet this little shit. Picked up all my things off the floor. nada. I even checked my iphone charger cord for a laugh. Zilch. Back to dreamland.
Jump to me standing alone with my Grandfather saying our good byes. I told you I'm horrible at retaining my dreams. Well the lobby was now a huge open airport gate with people rushing passed us. We slowly hugged and I began to quietly cry, then I said "Goodbye Tio." Tio? why did I call him Uncle? Was it cause I didn't know what to call him? "I'm your grandfather," he said as he slowly hugged me tighter. Oh, he now didn't have any gold crap his face but seemed to be dressed for a jet set vacation. He also had a folded up newspaper under his arm. A female guard then separated us. WTF, now my dream starts in with jail house rules? All of a sudden he was really really far away and I couldn't make what he was saying. Speak up Abuelo! "When I get out in 10 years we can-" "Your'e gonna be here for another 10 years?" I screamed. He laughed "Yes mijo." I was gonna have to show him photos of my kids, maybe bring them here for a visit. I wonder if we can play catch with him here in this hangar?
And then I woke up to a sweaty shirt. I simply do not dream. I also have never meet my Grandfather who didn't want anything to do with my Mom and Uncle when they were little. I have know idea what he looks like, where he is or if he's still alive. Well I'm pretty sure he's dead by now. But no pictures of him with my Grandmother Anita. I have old photos of her with her second husband, but he looked nothing like Omar Sharif. Also my Uncle has been dead now for over 15 years. I know that as I has at the hospital when he passed on. Dream realization, I was a little kid at the beginning of the dream, sitting in a big, comfy chair, feet unable to touch the grown, I had on my new shoes. But I was an adult with kids at the end when I was hugging the regal Sharif goodbye. Another thing, I don't have any children. Never been married. I did lose a girl with an EX during the first trimester. We named her Fe during our grieving therapy sessions. Fe has come to visit me from time to time in thoughts and dreams. But never ever my Mother's Father. Perhaps I dream more then I thought, more then I care to remember. But that was a good dream, I know love and a strange warmth exsisted between me and Omar. Perhaps I will dream of him again. I really hope he keeps appearing as Mr. Sharif, cause he was one slick hombre.
Oh that rat either never existed or scatted on out of my room, as a peep was never heard from him or her again. Shit, was that part of my dreams well? See you on down the road.