Last night I had a dream that was certainly prompted by Gail’s poem and all of the – sorry, I haven’t a word special and kind enough to describe everyone’s support. This dream may interest you; it certainly made me smile.
Last night I dreamt the simple dream that I stepped out of the shower all dripping wet and heard Seanna’s voice mumbling and murmuring outside in what I supposed to be a hallway. I didn’t recognize the bathroom I was in. Regardless, I was soaking wet and my purpose was to take care of that problem. As I began to dry myself I heard Seanna’s muffled voice ‘asking’, “See Steph? Come in?” Unsure of what to do, not knowing the rules wherever we happened to be, I didn’t answer. I felt a great fear.
When I hesitated I heard again a mumbled, “Wanna see Steph,” and I said loudly, “Okay babe! But I think we have to ask someone first! There are probably forms to fill out or something! So wait, okay?!” But to her that was an affirmation and that was all. “Yes” is “yes”; there is no “yes, but…” Instead of coming to the door, however, I heard a rustling under the counter. Curious, I reached for the door on the far left but it popped open before I could grab the handle. Seanna?
Yup. Apparently on the other side of the bathroom wall there was a closet or cubby of some type and she just weasled her way right through the hole in the wall (like the one in her Grandma’s house) and followed it through the base cabinet of the bathroom, knocking all manner of soaps and jars and bottles willy-nilly with a great racket, utterly oblivious to the mess and noise (she never changes…after all, someone else will be picking that up) and was almost all the way into the room, shoulder length chestnut brown hair escaping every which way from her pony tail, mumbling “see Steph?” while I laughed at her customary chaos, when I woke up. …when I woke up thinking, “Jeez it was nice to see her again! It must have been all those Soul Food people talking about she and I like that that brought her back. Especially Gail’s poem.” Thank you one and all.
My great panic and assumption that permission and forms were necessary were due to the vicious custody fight that was underway when she died. The rules of the family court took away all of my access to Seanna except via phone until the custody between birth parents was settled, but she died before that happened. So now, even now, still, when I dream about her being alive I often don’t see her face but only hear her voice. I will always hear that voice asking those questions she asked me until the day she died: “See Steph? Come see me? Seanna go to Steph? Now? Soon? Please?”
She was a Babbler with a capital B, but the circumstances in the last months had their value: I can’t imagine the sound of her voice will ever be forgotten by me. In my mind I held the sounds she made over the phone as tightly in my mind as I would her whole body to my heart if she were in front of me. The absence of my person did not stop her from bringing me everything of importance to her, either. She told me everything that hurt and where and when it happened and who she saw and what she did and how she felt and what she wanted and what she ate and what she drank and, and, and…until she cried because I wasn’t there to do it all with her. Thus was every phone call and there was so much time spent on the phone. I often thought maybe I shouldn’t talk to her if she ended up crying, but her dad said she cried when I didn’t answer, so I always answered. I guess I’ll always answer.
Oh…the shower theme. For our lifetime together Seanna showered with me. I was the Seanna-cleaner. I still feel lonely in the shower.