Wednesday, 1 August 2012

Just beyond my reach

Every once in a while I have the sinking feeling one of my parents will burst through the door and veto something I’ve decided about my life. At the least they’ll tell me to get up off the couch and fold some laundry.  

In my mind I’m still fourteen.

Every few weeks I dream that I’ve forgotten about one of my tables: after I took their dinner order, I never went back to make sure they got their meals. Dread and anxiety overtake me until I wake up and realize to my enormous relief that I am no longer a server in a restaurant.

In my dreams I might always be a waitress.

I often dream of life at 744 Manor Park Crescent, my childhood home. Not because it was a particularly happy place but even when the people of my present day are involved in the goings on, the setting is almost always that house.

In my dreams I still live there. 

And even as recently as this afternoon when Shaune called me at work to let me know we’d be having sliders for dinner, then handed the phone to Deaglan, I pictured Matthew’s face the entire time I talked to my four year old. They have the same voice.

A few weeks ago when the cook at Naveen’s daycare was saying his goodbyes because he was moving back to his hometown, we realized that we were both from Sarnia. In fact we’d both gone to the same high school only he was several years younger than me. We began rhyming off our siblings’ names in an effort to find a connection and he stopped me at Matthew. They’d known each other.  

I froze. 

It was apparent that he’d not heard the news. It hurt to tell him that Matt was gone. I hated admitting it. Similarly in a recent conversation with an acquaintance at work about the cost of living in Toronto, I  had to swallow a lump in my throat. My instinct to compare her experiences with Matthew’ s was overwhelming but I stopped myself for  fear of having to tell her that he no longer lived there.

In my heart he’s still around here somewhere.


  1. Wow, this hit me in the gut. I wish we lived nearer to one another. Because, I want to drive over, run in and give you the biggest hug. Wonderful, heartfelt writing my friend...xxO

  2. Oh sweet Kim he is closer than you realize and you will see him again some day. It is just tough missing him in the interim. Sending you a hug.

    By the way, my mind is made up - some day we are going to meet in person. I don't know when but some day. I am determined.

  3. Interesting about the waitress dreams. I have recurring dreams where I am a smoker again. It's been almost 10 years now since I smoked. I find the dreams disturbing.

    I'm so sorry - that must've been a hard and saddening thing to have to say :-(

  4. He is definitely closer than you realize, and he does live through your son. I always have a dream that I'm back in college failing the class that I ditched the most.

  5. I can't imagine how difficult that must be for you...telling someone who does not know yet that your brother is no longer here on Earth. But he is around my dear. He is.

    I have the same dreams as you ... about my first home and being a waitress again. All the time.

  6. I'm sorry, Kim...there are no words.

  7. My heart aches for you. Matthew isn't physically here, but his spirit is very much alive. Peace my friend

  8. Your last line speaks the truth that will never leave you. Matthew's love, spirit and energy is with you all. Sending you hugs always.


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