Dreams

In the dead of the night, I woke up from a dream, in tears. I had not known such sadness could ever be awakened within me again. I was a deep, sorrowful emotion that welled-up inside of me, all because I had a dream. A dream of a child I never had.

It played like a scene from a theatre act. All around me was nothing but white, like one of those stage play acts that have bare decorations to engage the audience to use their imagination to "set the stage". Well, everything that was not within an arm's reach was white anyway. But in the back of my head, I thought I was riding a bus. Destination unknown. There were no words uttered during this trip.

Seated beside me was my wife, though for the duration of the dream I did not even glance her way. My gaze was intent on the two old ladies seated in front of us and this child I was carrying in my arms. She was about a year-old, contented smile on her face, adorable pudgy cheeks and sleepy eyes. One of the old ladies was looking back at me. I propped up the baby so she could face me. She stood on my lap, my hands holding her up by her sides for balance. As I looked at her, all I could feel was a longing for her, as if it were the last time I would see her. I then looked at her eyes intently for a fleeting moment and then gave her to the old lady. It was then that the I started crying. I was feeling so sorry for myself, so miserable that I choked a bit and woke up. The tears did not stop though. My rational now-awake mind took over and I told myself not to fight the tears. I realized it was a dream and chose not to resist the torrent of confusing emotions whirling in my head. Instead, I let them run their course.

I can only wonder what it all means. They say dreams mirror our subconscious. Others say its our subconscious literally talking to our consciuos mind, giving it cryptic messages to make it realize something.

Maybe it has something to do with two things I have been thinking about lately. First off, I've always told friends I wouldn't want to have a daughter. They always laugh but I am serious about it. Don't get me wrong - I'm not sexist. I have different reasons for wishing that. I am such a dictator. I would like to spare her from a terrible fate of having me as a father. I really do think I would be a curse to any young lady that would be my daughter.

Another thing that has crossed my mind lately is the question of having a second child (at all). Right now, I'm doing terrible. I sometimes feel that living with me is a curse I wouldn't want to wish on anyone else. In most situations, I am impulsive and temperamental. I shout a lot when I get riled by my sons excited shouts and running around. Heck, at least the kid has an excuse for shouting. He's a kid. And aren't people supposed to bring a child into the world so they could raise them up into intelligent, mature and proper God-fearing individuals? I'm doing a bad job in that area too.

So, I am having second thoughts about having a second child at all. The tears from my dream seems to weigh as heavy as those two thoughts have. I have had no peace in my heart to speak off in the last week and a half. My only reprieve has been working at the office at night, occassionally clowning around with my officemates. Its a good thing i don't have bigger work responsibilities. I don't do well under emotional stress. Without the laughter, I'd have gone crazy already. These issues I have really make my heart heavy with grief. I am torn between what I would love to have and what I fear I might not be ready to handle.