I remember having a dream a long time ago about my second wife. We had not yet married then. We had only just met, but I was falling in love with her. In the dream, we were in a crowd of people in a harbor area where cruise ships came to dock. We saw each other amid the crowd of people and we both exclaimed "Hey!" at the same time, rushing forward to embrace.
Where are you? Where have you gone?
I've had this feeling about many people. It's a wonderful feeling, pure, full of joy, kinship, a synchrony of love. No one ever disappears. They are in the crowd somewhere. They are waiting in your heart.
Often enough, I have dreamed of my brother. He will suddenly appear, just there. And my heart will leap. Every time.
What are you doing here? Where have you been. I thought you had died.
And every time, he will say, Do I look dead to you?
I'm reminded of the final scene in the Terrence Malick film, The Tree of Life. In that scene, everyone has moved on to the next life. They are all walking on the wet sand of a wide open beach, meeting one another again and again--father, mother, brother, sister, beloved--reaching out, smiling, embracing with unutterable joy, relief, rest, peace, like an exhalation as wide as the unseen sea. Exclaiming at the same time, "Hey!"
My God, here you are after all. I had almost believed you were lost forever despite your presence being forever with me.
I dreamed of my brother on the very night of his death. He was swimming with dolphins in an ocean bay. His hair was thick and red again. His muscled shoulders with their galaxies of freckles glistened among the sleek bodies of the dolphins and the white caps of the waves.
Gary! Gary! My God, you're alive! Everyone told me you were dead.
And he looked at me with his blue eyes, and laughed, and shook his red hair, his face full of astonishment at such an absurdity.
And he said, Do I look dead to you?
Where are you? Where have you gone?
I've had this feeling about many people. It's a wonderful feeling, pure, full of joy, kinship, a synchrony of love. No one ever disappears. They are in the crowd somewhere. They are waiting in your heart.
Often enough, I have dreamed of my brother. He will suddenly appear, just there. And my heart will leap. Every time.
What are you doing here? Where have you been. I thought you had died.
And every time, he will say, Do I look dead to you?
I'm reminded of the final scene in the Terrence Malick film, The Tree of Life. In that scene, everyone has moved on to the next life. They are all walking on the wet sand of a wide open beach, meeting one another again and again--father, mother, brother, sister, beloved--reaching out, smiling, embracing with unutterable joy, relief, rest, peace, like an exhalation as wide as the unseen sea. Exclaiming at the same time, "Hey!"
My God, here you are after all. I had almost believed you were lost forever despite your presence being forever with me.
I dreamed of my brother on the very night of his death. He was swimming with dolphins in an ocean bay. His hair was thick and red again. His muscled shoulders with their galaxies of freckles glistened among the sleek bodies of the dolphins and the white caps of the waves.
Gary! Gary! My God, you're alive! Everyone told me you were dead.
And he looked at me with his blue eyes, and laughed, and shook his red hair, his face full of astonishment at such an absurdity.
And he said, Do I look dead to you?
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