Thursday, September 15, 2005
Last night I awoke from a bad dream about 2:30, I dreamed that someone was hurt by a rock, I'm not sure who did it,I'm not sure if they were dead or just hurt, but just that they were hurt. I don't even know who it was, anyway, I'm at my Papa's, and out the door walks my Papa, at first I'm so happy to see him, because it's been so long since I've seen him, and I loved him so much. But he walks up to me and has this look that I never saw on his face when he came to me, it was of dissappointment. Then he holds up the rock. I woke up very upset, because disappointment from my Papa would be the biggest hurt I can imagine, so I'm trying to figure out where it came from. I corrected my last entry, it sounded like I was saying I hated Pat Robertson, and of course I got some emails saying my two entries conflicted, so I corrected it again. I was actually quoting Russ from the entry he had put in my journal to tell me it was a hoax. Back to the dream. I even found myself in some pain today, my upper left side of my back, sharp stabbing pain. I woke up and tried to figure it out, but no luck, so I've given up maybe I'll figure it out later. Maybe he was saying to me in my dream, no sticks or stones. I don't know. I kept thinking did I do something bad? Did I sin. If Papa was holding up the stone, I must have done something wrong. Forgive me of my sins! I can' think of just one thing. But if there is something, I sure am sorry. I hope I dream of Papa tonight and he's smiling. I don't like being left with my last memory of my Papa being disappointed. I sure miss him, and I remember his last words to me before he died. I had come home to spend time with him when he was really sick, he had prostrate cancer. I walked in the door, and my Mema started fussing at me that I hadn't been home in a while. My papa hadn't talked much that week, and she started telling me that I really upset my Papa that I hadn't been home. He looked at her and said, don't tell him that, I'm not upset at him, I love him, I remember the day that he was born, I've loved him from that day, and I love him right now. Then he said I'm not upset at you, I love you. That was the last thing he said to me where he knew who I was the rest of the weekend. I fed him and sat with him and sang to him, and heldhis hand, and told him how much I loved him. I didn't really feel like he knew it was me though. Maybe he did. I've felt guilty that I didn't spend more time with him towards the end. I think I fooled myself, I knew he was sick, but I wouldn't let myself really see it. I love you Papa, and even if I don't dream of your smile tonight I will think of that look you gave me the last time you told me you loved me.