So. Ive been thinking about this post ALL DAY. And here it is, 11:11pm, and I am just now bringing myself to do it. Im hoping that i can keep this VERY short and sweet, just get to the point and get it over with.
A few days ago,a close friend of mine wrote This Blog, and of course I commented. It was about her dreaming about a situation surrounding her deceased father, and her having to 'let go'. I was close to tears reading it, and wondered in the comments if it would take something like that for me to begin letting go. I mean, her father has been gone for years, and she's still grieving. Daddy has only been gone since June2009, and it feels like the pain will never go away.
I was dreaming. I was back in Muskegon, MI, visiting family, I'm guessing, since I really don't have any other reason to be there. I don't really remember much of the dream, except the end. I am sitting in the backseat of someone's SUV with my girl Peaches (who lives here in DC now, but we grew up together), and my cousin, Chris (who, ironically, still lives there, and is Lt. Fire Chief). Its dark outside, and I'm guessing its around midnight, and we hear a marching band.
Marching band in Muskegon Hts. is a huge deal. EVERYONE is in band...the Band Director, Mr. Moore, went to FAMU, and treated us like we were in college. We played songs that were currently playing on the radio, formations were tight, we even danced. Band was hot.
So when we heard the band at nearly midnight, we were slightly shocked, but knew they were getting some good work in. I looked over at Peaches, who said something to the effect of "Go ahead, Mr. Moore, work them out!", and I smiled as well, knowing what she meant.
Band in the Heights...well Muskegon Hts. Tiger pride, is a huge thing within the alumni of the school, so there are always community members volunteering to do whatever they can to help out. Former band members (now middle aged adults) often march alongside of the band, for safety reasons, as well as to keep lines straight, march steps on time, etc.
For some reason, I think we wanted to get out of the SUV and watch, so my cousin opens my door, and I look out at the band.
"Oh my God, that's my daddy".
I saw him, but he didn't see me. He was too busy making sure the band members were doing the right thing. He was waving at the neighbors who came out to watch the band (at midnight, like it was a parade). He was smiling and he was happy, but he didn't see me. I began crying, bawling hysterically. I don't know what else happened around me...I just remember crying.
And then I woke up.
It hurt my feelings to wake up. I saw La at church today, and she thanked me for commenting on her blog, and I poured this story out...and by the end, we were both in tears.
I don't know what this means...but I had to get it out. I wish I had a dream interpreter...or at least an appointment with Dr. Sistagirl...
Until next time...