A child’s doll has died — such an innocent, heartbreaking image, easy to accept within the context of a dream, as is the doll’s resurrection. While it’s faithfully recorded from my own experience, the passage reads like fiction; perhaps that is why, if a child in the neighborhood told me her doll had died, I would believe her, and offer whatever sympathy and help she needed, even if that help culminated in smiles and laughter — it would all depend on her level of gravity and the twinkle in her eyes.
My grandfather, alive again and in need of a shave. Here we have what might be seen as a resurrection gone awry. No wonder I felt guilt, because, as the dreamer, I was responsible for summoning two I hold so dear. It was especially regretful to have put my father through such a thing, for no one was, or is, more needful and deserving of rest.
~
[ 1987 ]
Categories: Annotations and Elucidations
Tags: Children, Dolls, Dreams, Guilt, Laughter, Memory, My Father, My Grandfather, Resurrection, Smiles, Sympathy
William Michaelian 