My daughter didn't sleep well from 4-6AM last night/this morning, who knows why. I barely slept during that timeframe either and from 6-730AM when I did get some sleep, I found myself in and out of dreams, as I often do in that early waking light. She hasn't been in my dreams much, my daughter. She's 18-months old. It feels like now that she has a real, fully-formed personality that this is the appropriate time for that. For dreaming about her.In the dream, I felt frazzled, as I do too often IRL. I believe I was trying to get my daughter dressed for the day. My wife was milling about, cleaning, organizing. She found a pile of clothes that our daughter had outgrown without ever wearing once. One of the outfits was a rubber duck rain coat set complete with hat and galoshes. It was adorable. My wife said that it was a gift from my Great Aunt but that it was now headed for the donation bin without our daughter having worn it.
My Great Aunt is no longer with us. And she died long before my wife was even pregnant, before even my wife was my wife.
But this fact didn't resonate with me in the dreamworld. The sadness of having not used this thoughtful gift washed over me, and I started to sob uncontrollably. Thinking about this sobbing now as I type up this very blog post is making me feel a little misty, though I'm in no real danger of crying. I don't cry.
Yesterday, I listened to this Fresh Air podcast interview of Michael Ian Black by Terry Gross. Towards the end, Black mentions how he never cries IRL as an adult but that he has dreams where he cries his eyes out. He says that he wakes up sad when this happens because he can't access that place that needs accessing.
I'm not sure if I agree with this after my dreamcry because when I woke up I was essentially still crying. My eyes were wet and I felt that cathartic release. It had been years. It's weird to say it, but I hope I wake up in tears again soon. I really do.
