Very Disturbing Dream

Ever wake up in a cold (REAL cold) sweat, disoriented from a dream? I don’t recommend it. To anyone.

Last night I had the absolute worst dream I’ve ever had in my life. Ian (my oldest son) and I are sitting at the edge of a large cliff. Said cliff is actually the downside lip of a sloping seaside hill. So, essentially we’re on the grassy downsloping edge of a cliff… 200 or so feet below is an agry sea and all the boulders you would expect to find. Picture the classic Ireland seascape. Now you have a sense of it.

Now, I *LOVE* heights. But, Ian… not so much. [EDIT: Wow, good catch! I **LOVE** Ian. He just doesn’t love heights so much. Whew, he could have been scarred for life!] So, I try to usher him back to safety and in the process slip off the edge and find myself hanging by my nails, mid-air, knowing I’m dead meat unless I pull myself over the edge. But, the struggle proves too much and despite Ian lending a hand I can’t quite make it back to terra firma.

I say my goodbye’s to Ian and then let go. I would normally wake up at that point. Bothered for a while knowing I’ll sort out the cobwebs and get back to sleep. But, what unexpectedly happens instead is what really disturbed me.

Ian lunges after me and falls over the edge too. We’re both barrelling for the rocks now. Certain death. THEN I wake up. Yeah, nice. It’s 2:17 a.m. and I have this incredibly nauseous ball in my chest and all I want to do is go into Ian’s room and check on him. He’s fine just like I knew he would be. But, less than two hours sleep and one bad dream later… I’m royally messed up dwelling on the scene my brain just served me of my kid dying horrifically.

I’m not prepared for that day. Not in the least. My great grandmother buried all three of her boys (untimely deaths all). I have no inkling of the kind of strength a person has to drawn on to say goodbye to their children. Hope I never have to find out. Just thinking about it nailed me like no hit on the football field ever did (and I’ve been hit plenty hard before). Still reeling from that dream nearly 12 hours later and needing to shake it off. Don’t think blogging it is going to be the catharsis I was hoping for. Ick!

Dream interpreters… start your engines.

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