I came across a note torn from a small tablet buried under a month’s worth of papers, files and books. It is my attempt to record a dream in the middle of the night. It seemed worth saving so I tossed it on my desk and forgot about it until today.
I couldn’t remember what it was until I noticed there was more on the back – a scribbled drawing and description of a vision as the dream melted away.
Then it came back to me, and I was inspired to write.
March 2026 Dream
Esther gave me babydoll pajamas for graduation.
First time I remember a gift from a relative outside
large Christmas gatherings. Gift-wrapped pj’s
for my own special occasion. I did not expect it
and never forgot, going forward remembering
my sibling’s children on their special days.
Esther’s son, Norman, driving home one night
crashed and was killed. We were the same age,
in our late teens maybe. So long ago, but
what I remember clearly is the viewing.
He’d grown a beard, which surprised me.
I always called him “Normie” because Esther did.
Recently, I woke in a dream about them: Mother and Son
More than fifty years since his death, maybe ten since
her passing. They slowly vanished as I woke, his
portrait in a picture frame slowly circling and
receding back into the aether as he assured me,
“Keep doing what you’re doing. Love people.”
©2026 BamlG
