Seeing visions; dreaming dreams.

Driving last week I saw a young man in a car one lane over. His hands rested on the wheel. All of a sudden they were Malcolm’s hands. Not like, really his. I know I wasn’t really seeing Malcolm; my mind was playing tricks on me, filling in an image it recalled from my memory. But rational thinking played no part in the experience. As I watch, I suddenly can’t breathe and there’s a lump in my throat. I want to follow the car and keep seeing Malcolm’s hands on the wheel but the car pulls off and turns. I’m stuck in my lane. I begin crying.

Today, driving down my street I saw a red Honda coming towards me, a car like Malcolm’s. And as it passed me I saw him behind the wheel.

As I write this my throat clenches up one more time. I hope I see him again soon; I don’t care that it isn’t real. An embodied memory is better than nothing. This nothing is so permanent.

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One response to “Seeing visions; dreaming dreams.

  1. Elizabeth Lott

    I know it sounds funny but I always see Malcolm in the same place. I have lots of trees behind my house, nothing special, except for one beautiful red maple in the center. It almost dosn’t belong there, which is why it stands out so much. Whenever I am outside enjoying the weather, I see the Maple swaying in the wind. It almost speaks to me. I just know it’s Malcolm waving “Hello”. I don’t know why my mind made this comparison. I guess because Malcolm was such a unique and beautiful person who loved nature. Anyway, this blog reminded me of that. Hope to see you guys soon.

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