ESSAY
THE DREAMER BY SEAN OF THE SOUTH (SEAN DIETRICH) I had a dream last night. It was a pretty cool dream. At first, I’d hoped it would be a flying dream. Because I’ve always wanted to have a flying dream. I hear they’re great. But alas, I never get those. Oh, I’ve had lots of falling dreams. And I’ve been eaten by lots of alligators. I’ve also frequently been found standing in front of my third-grade class wearing nothing but goosebumps. But flying? Never happens. In the dream I saw you. You were tall, lanky, with auburn hair, wearing the same shirt you died in—blue with a green stripe. Your same shoes, too. Old-school Nikes. It was bizarre seeing you in such an outdated outfit. When you died, those clothes were the apex of high fashion. Today, you look more like Forrest Gump. I’d never been to a universe like the one in my dream. Where was I? There was nothing but grass and sky for miles. The pasture was rich ochre, the sky was French Ultramarine Blue. It was like a Monet, only without the haystacks. I was starting to get the sense that wherever this place was, it was more ancient than the young place I came from. When you noticed me, you didn’t do much. You didn’t even move. You just waited. But eventually you recognized me because you started waving. And it wasn’t a small wave, either. It was a big, huge, country-come-to-town wave. 10 Bham Family October 2021
I started jogging toward you. I immediately forgot about trying to play it cool. I was sprinting. And mini flashbacks kept coming to me. Even in this virgin land of grass and sky, I still felt a twinge of pain when I thought of you. I was unprepared to feel pain here. The Gaithers never covered any of this in the manual. I was remembering things like the time when I was a boy and I overheard the county deputy tell Mama that your body was unidentifiable because of the way you died, and how the county had to use your dental records to identify you. Then, I remembered the family gathering in the living room to break the news of your death to everyone. And I remember my reaction. I wanted to run. I wanted to move my legs. It was purely an animal thing. I can’t explain it. I needed to fire up my quadriceps and feel some cold air in my chest. So, I raced for the front door. I tossed up the latches. But my family pinned me down and kept saying, “Ssssshhhhhh,” like I’d suddenly become like a crazy person. But I wasn’t crazy. I was just a little boy. Although the two aren’t so different. But anyway, I got over you. I went on to live a full life without you. I missed you, sure. But many times, I didn’t even think about you. I got married. Finished school. I had fun. I’ve been to Disney World twice. Dollywood once. I’ve had CONTINUED ON PAGE 11
