Last night I had a really fucked up nightmare. I had a nightmare in which my wife and child were gunned down in an alleyway while we were getting ready to leave a corner store in some large city. My nightmares are normally violent affairs. I think they’re this way because I’m exactly the opposite. I’m a very laid back, cold and calculating kind of person. I’m more often observing than acting.
I write this because every once in a while, it occurs to me how essentially my wife and daughter are to my life. I woke up to find that Donna was not in bed with me, she had gotten up to take care of our daughter, giving me the morning off to sleep in. When I realized she wasn’t there, I leaped out of bed and found her in the bathroom, getting ready to give Mara a bath. My mind was just so incredibly head fucked this morning that tears and the need for human contact was my only viable reaction.
She held me until my sobbing subsided, then we looked down to see Mara, with her clothes on, in the bathtub, with the shower on playing with her toys, which reminded me how going from tears to laughter is my favorite emotion in this world. I often have these notions that I’m some kind of super hero, that nothing will ever happen to my family because I am always there to protect them. I realize how vain and idiotic this is, but it is really the way I feel. Once in a while my brain gives me a reality check, and then I realize that my wife is there to protect ME from my mind, just as much as I am there to protect her from the horrors of this world.
When I think about how much my family keeps my psyche together, I realize how truly fortunate I am to have ran into her at the time I did, and that I was open to the experience of having her in my life. Within the game of chess, it’s one of the queen’s functions to protect the king. How appropriate.
I love you Donna.