FUNKADELIC FRIDAYS: DREAMS

dream-watercolor 

Dreams wheal unimaginable power. In our dreams we become people that we would never imagine being. Dreams take us on the most unlikely adventures and allow us to literally look through the eyes, think the thoughts, speak the words, and experience the world of another human being.

I am the little eight year old white girl with two front teeth missing wearing my favorite emerald green wind suit that has two wide purple and pink strips across the right jacket sleeve set at an angle. I love running up and down my street in my neighborhood with my friends. We play wearing our Mardis Gras masks.   I love to run. We run everywhere. We run and jump. We jump on and off the hood of the station wagon. We run up and down the driveway into the street but never too far away from our front yard. There is somebody filming us while we run back and forth from the camera to the car. When we run to the camera, we get in real close, giggling and laughing as we run back and forth. Mom calls out, “Time to come in.” Then it’s all gone. Just gone.

I am the little nine year old black boy running in and out of the house in the country. My sister found a cat that seems like no other cat I have ever seen. It’s a smoky grey. Ghost like looking. It’s big too. I am running through the trees. We have a Christmas Tree farm but we don’t make much. The old white man down the road wants our land and he is real mean. We yell and holler when we run through his property. Mama tells us not to go on his land but we do anyway. There are old broken wooden fences in front of an old rickety barn. One of the windows is hanging loose on the barn building. There is an old horse out in the field in back of that barn. We don’t bother him much though because he’s old. My Granddaddy use to tell us to not bother animals when they’ re old.

“Tain’t right to rile ’em. They paid their dues takin’ care of their owners so in their old age they ought to be left be. ”

He was smart. I miss my granddaddy. We running through the field now heading home. There’s the mean old white man yelling at us to get off his land. We still running and don’t stop until we get home. My sister is holding that spooky ghost cat while sitting on the front porch. We reach the porch. I try to pet the cat but my sister won’t let me. Says I will hurt it. I never hurt nothing in my life that I can remember right now. Mom calls out, Time to come in.” We go in and close the door so the cat can’t get back out. Then it’s all gone. Just gone.

I am the forty year old mama sitting on the porch popping snap beans for Sunday dinner. I sit watching my little six year old girl and nine year old son running in the yard. My little girl chases my nine year old son who holds the new pink round plastic ball I just bought them from the dime store in town. I see their smiles and hear their laughs and it makes my heart sing. Such peaceful moments are sacred to me because they are so rare. I will add this moment to the other sacred moments stored away in a holy shrine in my mind. It’s getting late. I call out, “Time to come in.” Then it’s all gone. Just gone.

~~~Malinda Gwyn~~~

 

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