There has to be something that even through the years I haven�t been able to decode; something beyond my knowledge�beyond love and feelings.
I wish I could understand these child eyes that look at me every now and then. Sometimes I think that the look of his eyes froze a second before pain, just to perpetuate what once he was. To always remember that a year before pain God granted this boy a wish.
Anyone could think that God has a bagful of mysterious, practical jokes, if you wish. Others would think that these jokes are even morbid�but who will fight God? Perhaps, not even God could change a destiny, because otherwise things would not fit on his perfect plan�thus, he will grant us some special wishes for a small period so we could carry memories on our life�s baggage.
He gives us a taste of happiness and then takes it away; it is up to us how we should interpret it; whether it was a tasteless joke or an everlasting remembrance.
This is my theory about what I see through the eyes of my Dreamer. Sometimes I see the anger of whom a morbid trick was played on, other times I see the eyes of a child�full of love and above all innocence. The picture of these eyes captured on the face of a grown man. The eyes of a human being that never suffered disappointments, fears, pain; I see the illusion of a kid who was loved, pampered, and taught was faith is.
As I said before, eyes froze a second before pain.
Pain�I will describe pain for you; pain is what a boy ten years old, after waiting for a long time, due to the nature of his mother�s job, is back living full time with her, a step dad who was more than a father to him and a new baby brother. After all those years he had a real family�not that he didn�t have one because his grandparents were loving to him�but he finally was where he wanted; with Mommy. And a short time after this wish was granted it was taken away when Mom passed in a very tragic way. Moreover, after that, the only person in this world who truly cared about this boy was not allowed to retain his custody�and from this moment on a path full of sadness, struggle and survival started for this boy, today a man.
All what he is now was determined that day. All the trips to hell and back and the walks in the clouds as well. Sometimes I stare at him because I just wonder what this man could have become if he had his share of butterfly kisses every night and Mommy�s voice singing all kind of songs as she tucked him, just to show him the way to Dreamland. And a million questions pop in my head, what if�? Would he have been able to express love and be affectionate? Would he have taken the course he did? Would his life been this exhausting error and trial? Would he understand what kind of mother I am? However, I know all these questions would remain unanswered until I meet my mother-in-law when I get to heaven.
We have so many things to talk about�I don�t know if she knows, but I want to tell her why and how I love her baby so much�what things I have try to do to make him a better person. I want Mom to know, how he has made me a better person, how many times he has taken care of me when my Bipolar Disorder turns me into a monster. How patient my Dreamer is when it becomes unbearable to deal with me. I wish Mom could have been there when my stepdaughter was born�I want to tell her that its too bad that she didn�t have enough time to teach him that the hamper in the bathroom is to actually put the dirty clothes inside, that the newspapers are not to be kept on the bedroom when they get old and that he shouldn�t smoke in bed. She should be proud because hidden behind that BIG MOUTH there is a marshmallow heart, he is clean and wouldn�t steal�he is very intelligent and can keep up on any conversation subject. He likes to read and learn�he likes to sing as well.
Mom will get to know that he lets me be, that he would not complain when there is a sink full of dishes howling my name, as today and I preferred to stay wasting my time on the internet. He even did the dishes! He is an excellent cook. That when he thinks I am asleep he tells me how much he loves me�sometimes I am just pretending I am asleep just to hear that.
Mom, wherever you are, be proud!
That is my Dreamer, the person with the child eyes�the eyes I am still deciphering on a daily basis. The eyes of my real dreamer�that show what is within his soul. Sometimes I think that it is this paradox that repeats itself over and over again�as the child stands again in the middle of the crossroad trying to figure which one of the four paths is the one with the yellow bricks, confused and alone a ten year old tries to reckon which way leads to Oz. |
