Sunday, January 22, 2012

When I was five and six

This morning before I woke up I had one of those dreams, one of those dreams that I know what I'm doing and why, although I didn't choose to be where I was. 


The bones of the dream are that I had returned to the site of the daycare I had attended at age 5. Although I didn't see people in the dream, I was accompanied by one or two others, and someone let me into the house. (The preschool had either been someone's home at one point, or just looks like a house). I introduced myself as having formerly gone there and asked if I could look around. 


The first thing I noticed was the smell. It still had that smell of onions, dirty diapers, and baby powder. I wondered about how I could smell something in a dream. I walked through the front rooms, recalling what they had been when I was there...and I made note that there was carpet and the carpet was white shag. (not that bright heavenly white, but a sort of just-steam-cleaned white). The walls were white, too. Walking around, I was aware of everything I remember from there but I pushed those memories aside. 


I was in a room with a desk, I guess. On the desk was one of those metal frames that folds and you can put a picture in each side. On one side was my brother and on the other side was me. They were black and white, as if the photos were taken in the 50's. 


In another room I found what I didn't realize I was looking for. A single white shelf with a few random items, another photo - this one of me. It was a smaller, color photo of me as a 5 or 6 year old with my hair styled in a 60's teenager style. I was wearing green and white and looked like my mom. Behind the photo I noticed a book. It was thin, and the cover was still glossy white. On the spine it said C. Bear (and something after it). 


At least I think it did, because I was waking up, and the shock and excitement of finding the book I have been searching for my entire life was racing through my mind. By the time I reached to pick it up, I was aware of myself and I woke up and the actual memories of the preschool started flooding in around me. The crying babies, the dark room, cots, goulash, counting to a million...blood...having to hold a diaper to my head to cover the wound while I waited for my stepfather...I waited a few minutes before opening my eyes to reality.


I have such vivid memories of that part of my life, that place, and even the smells. But the thing I lost - the thing I keep looking for - was a book about my teddy bear, a book that came with my bear, the reason I named my bear Charles. 


I still have Charles. His squeaker doesn't work anymore. He's missing an eye. His paws have been replaced multiple times. He's still my Charles Bear, though, and I want to find his book.

1 comment:

Kristi Ostler said...

So, maybe there was a part of you that got left behind or forgotten somewhere along the way. And in your recent efforts of soul searching, you stumbled on a part of yourself that you forgot existed. But it hasn't deteriorated--it's still as fresh and wonderful as it was the day you were created. It's just been waiting for you to find it again after all these years.