such a vivid dream again seeing my bike
I had another dream last night. Once again, it was very real and emotional and connected to everything that I know and love. I rode my bike to the Friendly’s in downtown Waldwick. I remember looking across the street to see the little diner there. I know everybody from high school would be in it because people from high school still lived in town.
The thought came to mind of walking and giving Greg a big hug. He was my good buddy through most of the worst I saw there. It was such a vivid dream again seeing my bike and the little coffee shop and everything else that I knew so well.
I remember even thinking I’d buy a danish or something. Wondering how fake it was or whether there was any real flour anywhere. Course, I know there’s like no real flour in the country…. Oh, except for the Amish, they know what they’re doing. Thank God.
So I got up and I listened to the Family Focus and then Charles Stanley on theJoyFM.com. I also listened to their prayer this morning, which sounded really good including the morning Prayerline requests as I did my exercises. Next was the Exodus with Saint Michael’s Lent. It spoke about Tobias visiting his uncle, walking in the house without telling him who they were. And then finally admitting how real it was to be accepted as family immediately. Reminds me of Greg and Kristel in Waldwick.
The Story didn’t register until I was downstairs getting my breakfast and finished the Exodus piece and decided to open up the story about Rob that they have here in the app. Day 4 in the story Fr Benedict got him thinking: "But how do I find out what healing I need?"
He finally admitted he had no relationship with his father. Or hadn’t spoken to his father in years.
Of course, I could say the same thing, then also realized that I’ve never shared that with the fraternity. This was really what brought me to the Catholic Church anyway. Returning to my mother and the truth was running away from the lies and deceptions of my father as well.
I realized my whole life was beating the American machine. Which I kind of discovered as I went along. As a child, I really wanted to prove my dad wrong, that everything was about money. Showing them how easy it was to make money. I learned more in school than most people do their whole lives by fighting the system instead of participating in the mind-dumbing programs of the machine.
And then I discovered how little my dad helped. My mom just tried to keep me alive, while my dad did everything he could to kill me. I remember working in the garden with Rick and how perplexed he was when he stopped me swinging a knife. “You mean your dad didn’t tell you to never hold something sharp pointing at yourself.”
It was just unbelievable for Rick, wondering if I had a dad at all. Then I remember the policeman who stopped me drunk driving through the middle of town. Of course, he let me off, he couldn’t have anything to do with it, seeing first hand how my dad treated me.
You would think that I forgave him by now? I’ve forgiven them all a hundred times by now. I mean, I can’t even count how many times I’ve apologized to my brothers, thinking they could ever treat me like a real person. I guess their dad never did, so why should they.
And even if I could be forgiven, forgiven for being the 2nd son, forgiven for being Spanish, forgiven for being Rafè, would never change the resentment or “class disparity” they all knew and felt as demonstrated by my dad for over 50 years…. lol, and still to this day!
You know my dad is pushing 90 now, and I wonder if he will live long enough to resolve this? I wonder if that’s what I’m here to do now? I’ve thought a thousand times that this big house was all about making a space for him. Of course there is space here for all of them… I think I counted 12 places to sleep before . .
What do you feel, now reading this again?.I fun blessed to be able to write on this iPad Pro and see the words appear after my random scribbles . . . . . I Love You Dearest Loving Lord Jesus Christ.
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