The Trip
Another dream, packed with past and present. I know dreams when I have them. Sometimes they carry a bit of a memory and it’s always interesting to see how it plays into the dream. I remember thinking to myself, while I sat on the ground, my body giving up, that I would never stop thinking of her. I would never forget this life where I found myself content and happy so near the end. She hasn’t always been there in my thoughts, but she comes when I need her most.
I decided to take a trip to Ireland. Not for sightseeing, but more so to explore what I had seen since I was a child. I used to carry books of Ireland around that I’d check out from the library for weeks at a time. Just flipping through, looking at the photos thinking how badly I felt I needed to go back there to find my happiness again.
If I closed my eyes I could be there again, feel it, smell it… but it was just a fleeting moment and it was never enough.
I didn’t feel like a stranger here. I didn’t feel like a tourist on a vacation. I felt as if I was just heading home. The closer I got to what was familiar, I had this feeling inside me of pure excitement.
My heart almost felt tight, my skin radiating this warmth all over, a lump in my throat from just wanting to scream out that I was finally here — I was home again. I had to keep myself composed while driving and finally made it to the turn.
I pulled into the drive, thinking ‘well, let’s just see what happens here.’ I know it’s been a long time and things change.
Yet when I pulled up, I saw her there. Standing near the front of the house, like she had been waiting. Of course, she didn’t know this face, but she was friendly all the same. We talked a while. I had lied a bit about making the wrong turn and apologised for inconveniencing her. But she declined my apology and said I got here at a great time.
“I’m cleaning up just a bit before the children get here,” she said almost as if she was prompting me out of the car, seemingly knowing I had been there to stay awhile.
Noticing she was alone, I offered my help. After all, I’m quite good at cleaning these days. As we went inside the house, I had lost all that nervousness and felt a complete calm.
We talked and tidied up around the house. I did what I could to help her, and she was such a joy to be talking to. I had noticed times she stared at me, almost confused. But I cleared my throat and found something else to fiddle with.
She offered a drink to me and we sat down at a small table. We talked and laughed about something and she placed her hand on my arm, “you remind me so much of my late husband, it’s uncanny sometimes.”
“I’m sure he was a wonderful man,” I said with an obnoxious smirk on my face. “If I didn’t know any better, I would actually think you are Robert,” she looked right into my eyes and there was a moment that passed that seemed like hours.
I hadn’t heard that voice say that name in so long, my breathing seemed to stop. She patted my arm and said, “he was something all right.” She grabbed the drinks and got up.
At one moment I found myself getting frustrated, and she noticed it as well. She huffed over at me in slight annoyance “Just go to the garden and do what you need to do…and don’t sneak off this time!”
It was as if I’d done it time and time again, I stopped what I was doing and went to walk out the side door.
She laughed at that moment and as I turned she said “I knew it. You’re some form of what my husband used to be, aren’t you?” I paused feeling like I was going to just say everything, tell her everything because I knew who she was.
Exactly who she was. She must have seen my reaction to her comment. “Well, it’s good to have you home. I’ll know where to find you … you don’t fool me after all these years.” She smiled at me and started her housework again.
