The Best of Times......

I had a very sad dream this morning and it was one of those that you just wake up feeling really sad about some things.

Some of you may remember the Newman Elementary School in Rose Park, not the new building but the old building. The new building has only been in existance for a few years. Ok, maybe more than a few but still....

Growing up, I never went to Newman Elementary as a student. I did however play quite a bit in the school yard. As kids, we played softball, tag, football.... Sometime we even went over and hit golfballs. It was a place where we could go climb some of the trees, hang out with friends, or just ride bikes. It was quite upsetting when they changed it around.

I know that the school is now bigger and better, it just doesn't make me feel better that the neighborhood is changing. We like to keep things from our past. I'm no exception. We like somethings to change but others, well, they just need to stay the same. I have come to grips that they changed the school and the yard or at least I thought I had.

So, back to my dream. In my dream, the school yard, the original, was alive in a sense. It couldn't move but it had consciousness. It was aware of all the kids that would play on it. It shared our lives, our hopes, our dreams. It revelled when we scored a touchdown and felt sorrow when we scraped our knees or fell from the monkey bars. It looked forward to each day and loved all the kids that would come.

Now, a new school sits where the old playgrounds were. The old play field is now part of the school and parking lot. In the dream, it was as if the new school were dropped right on top of it. There were people who talked of progress and others who couldn't feel the pain that the field felt. Having a school dropped on you is a lot. The playfield was partially covered and you could see part of the grass and knew where things were. Yard lines were cut into it where the field had tried to modify itself to remind others of where the football games had been played but no on really listened. In its pain, it would emit a "mental scream" that would remind the people of playing on the field. It would remind them of their youth and the time that had been shared. The memories were strong enough that all you wanted to do was to relive those moments. To go back in time and knowledge to the times of your youth to when that time was important to you.

You could see that the field was dying and with it, all the memories of the years past. Some people felt it but they were few. They didn't know what it was like to be a child and couldn't remember their childhood much at all. Those people you felt sorry for because as they walked the field, the were oblivious to the pain that was being suffered right beneath their feet.

Anyway, I woke up with a very empty feeling. One that makes you realize that life continues down the path whether you are ready or not. It doesn't stop or slow because you say "Hey, this is fun.... Let's hang out here for a while before we move on." It trudges on with or without notice and if you are not careful, it slips by before you know it.

I'm not 100% on whether dreams mean anything or not but I awoke with such a feeling of dread and realized how many things I couldn't remember about my childhood. I hope, that once we leave here, our memories will be complete and not subject to the errors of this world. That we can relive in our minds all our lives. Remember the good and the bad, the happy and the sad. I think that was the worst part of the empty feeling is knowing that many of the memories are not readily available for recall and may never be here. I can only hope that it isn't permanent.