Last Night's Dream

[Warning: This is not an upbeat, cheerful, happy entry. If you're looking for that, check out Jorge Garcia's blog.]

My mother died when I was 10. I was devastated, especially because this happened at a time when I was going though horrible "issues" with the kids at school. I grew about four inches in height that year and was suddenly one of the tallest kids in the whole school, towering over all the boys and all but one of the girls. This led to substantial humiliation and rejection. Moreover, Marilyn O., who'd been my best friend since kindergarten, abandoned the newly gawky me for a malicious but cute little girl named Marilyn S.

Anyway, I was ridiculed on a daily basis, both in school and around the neighborhood, but the incident I remember the best took place at my mother's funeral.

It was a hot and sunny August day. I was 10 years old, as mentioned before. I remember being told before the service that I should "be a big girl and try not to cry." I was given some pills to take: Valium or some other sedative.

After my mother's casket was lowered into the ground, the adults put me back in the funeral-home's limo while they stood around the grave and talked.

I sat there by myself in the limo, miserable, lonely, bored, and doped up. The limo had automatic windows, and in my soporific state, I began playing with the one nearest me, pushing the button on the armrest, making it go up and down, up and down, up and down.

I gazed through the window as I played with it, and suddenly I noticed Marilyn O. and Marilyn S. standing not far away from the limo. They were pointing and blatantly making fun of me for playing with the window. There were no adults around to stop them.

So that was my dream last night, reliving that moment at my mother's funeral when I was derided and ridiculed.