Zebra Dream
When
Max was younger, we didn't know if he knew what a dream was
we
assumed he had dreams
doesn't
everyone have dreams?
I
was curious about Maxi's dreams
as I
guess all parents are about their child's inner life
.
. . . . or anyone about anyone's inner life.
We
would ask Max about his dreams though we were never sure
if it
was a dream he was telling us about.
Sometimes, when we asked him about what he had done at the
child-minders
he
would enthusiastically say, "Seaside!"
The
child-minder certainly had not taken Max there
but he
very much wanted to go.
It was
the same with his dreams. When he said "Puddles"
we did
not know whether he had dreamt about jumping in them
or
whether that was what he wanted to do next.
Max was
two and half years old and slept
for a
couple of hours every afternoon.
Sometimes he was very slow to wake.
If we
had to leave earlier than usual, I had to wake him up.
I would
do this gently as he used to get
very grumpy if was woken too quickly.
One
afternoon, I had to wake him up.
I got
down on the floor next to the cot
where I
could see his beautiful sleeping face
and
started quietly talking to him
till I
saw him stirring and waking, yawning and frowning.
I
stopped talking as he opened his mouth and said, very clearly:
"Zebra".
He
opened his eyes and then there was a long pause.
Finally, he said with real disappointment in his voice:
"Oh .
. . . . where gone?"
Island
Gardens . . . . . that’s where we went to today.
Max was
restless in his buggy
he kept
saying he was not tired
despite
some huge yawns.
I found
a good spot and parked him
where
he could see a big Holly Tree
its
branches and leaves swaying in the river breeze.
while
Max sucked his thumb and held Charlie Crab
I read
to him in a quiet slow steady voice
leaning
forward from my park bench.
his
eyes got heavy
slowly
closed
his
hand fell away from his mouth
his
body relaxed
and he
was
deeply
asleep.
Then as
I watched that face I love
He
smiled and gave a little laugh.
Max
laughs in his dreams
I am
amazed because I cannot remember a single laugh
Or even
a moment of mild humour
Nor
even a grin
In any
of my dreams . . . . ever
*