The Doubts are Coming!

Most of today was painful.  I can't take any painkillers except for ...cough... Tylenol, and I'm far too attached to my liver to go there.  The pain makes me recall the conversations my brother and I had during his losing war on colon cancer.  Someone had told him that, when it comes to colon cancer, at least, by the time you actually feel pain, it's too late.

So, today, I've started to have doubts about my chances to fight.  WHICH IS DAMNED SILLY!  It's not like I've got the results of the PET scan in hand telling me to kiss my ass goodbye.  Actually, and quite happily, I managed to get an appointment with my oncologist for Tuesday.  Dr. F is a realist and he won't waste my time on empty promises, so if he says we can fight, then fight we will.

When my brother was in the last few weeks of life, I would call him almost every day, and we would discuss life, the universe and everything.  We both admitted that we had never bought into our Catholic upbringing of hell and damnation, and neither of us professed a belief in the 'popular' concept of one 'old white guy' god.

During one conversation, he asked me if I thought there was something beyond death, and I gave it alot of though and told him that I truly believed that I would see him again, somewhere.  I would see my dad, my aunt and every other person that I had ever loved who had passed on before us.  Of course, I didn't understand why I thought this way, but it was a fundamental belief that I could not naysay.

My brother said, "Well, then, if this is true, I promise you now that I will find a way to let you know the truth."

A few days later, he was gone, and that night, I had one of my unforgettable, very lucid and realistic dreams.  I do not have them often, and when I do, I can tell the difference between one of THESE and the normal dream.  But even in 'normal' dreams, I know I dream, and if I don't like where my dream is going, I wake up.

But this dream... I remember as if I had just woken from it.  I remember the colors, the cobblestones, the linens on the tables, the scents and who was there, and EVERY word spoken.  I was walking down a narrow street in an obviously European town.  Passing an intersection, I was drawn to a cafe, with outdoor tables surrounded by wrought iron railing adorned with trailing vine motifs.  As I approached, my oldest sister appeared and said to me, "Oh good, we thought you'd never get here!" 

She led me into the cafe, and there was my father, my aunt, other aunts and uncles, and I said to my sister, "Oh, I must have died in my sleep!"  There was no fear in the statement; just matter of fact.

"No, you're not dead," she said, "Daddy just wanted a family reunion with the living and the dead."  And I woke up.  It occurred to me that my brother who had just died was not in the cafe, and why my living sister was the spokesperson, I still don't understand.  And I wondered if this was the 'message' that my brother had promised to send, or if this was simply something I wanted so badly, my subconscious GAVE me the message I wanted.

Anyway, I haven't told many people about that dream, because I still question it, but later, when my mom was dying, I had another of THOSE particular dreams, but that'll have to wait for another post.

As for this one, I'm feeling better, for the memory of that dream always makes me smile, and perhaps that is the true message of the dream.