I was living at Mom and Gary’s place in Parma, but my step-brother Philip and my cousin Michael were there. In the dream, I was 18 and a Senior in High School, Philip was an underclassman (age 16?), and so was my cousin Michael (age 14?). This is totally skewed from real life, where I’m currently 27, Philip’s 17 and Michael’s 19.
In my dream, it started out as late evening. My glasses were broken, and I knew I had to go get them fixed; The left lens had a clean horizontal break halfway across. But Gary informed me that I had to drive Philip to school, and bring Michael along (who, in the dream as in real life, had some mental/behavioral issues). I argued that I would be late for school if I did that; and besides, it was my car and I was an adult and shouldn’t have to ferry everyone around, etc, etc. My arguments didn’t fly, though, and I was stuck with the job.
Michael was taking a bath, and I checked in on him to make sure he was OK and getting clean. (No, I don’t think I’d have to do that in real life, FYI.) I explained to him that he’d be coming with me to the eye doctor’s and to take Philip to school.
Suddenly, the scene shifted to morning. My glasses were worse: both lenses were cracked and the glass was bent and curled, like melted plastic, with white opaque stripe-like sections along the breaks. But I had to drive with them, because I could see better with them on than not. I considered my strategy: my first priority was getting my glasses fixed, which I figured would take no time. I’d bring Michael along to that, leaving Philip at home. Then I’d swing back and get Philip and take him to school.
Unfortunately, we got a late start. It was about 10:00am before Michael and I got to the Optometrist’s office—partially from wrangling Michael, and partially because I could barely see to drive. I had expected the fix to take five minutes, after which I could swing by and get Philip to school late. But, after turning in my glasses to be fixed, we sat in the waiting room for a good half-hour (by the dream-time internal time-lapse clock, of course). I finally went up to the desk to check on when my glasses would be done… and saw two pieces of corrugated cardboard on which were written each patient’s last name, time in, and estimated time out. I found my last name, Schnuth, and saw that my glasses had been received at 10:15am. My replacements weren’t expected to be complete until 5:00-5:30pm. I was pissed that I’d just wasted half an hour, and just as pissed that I’d have to drive home with no glasses. Around this point, I think I woke up.
During the course of the dream, Michael was actually good company, and we had some "normal" conversation. This is something I didn’t really get to have with him much in real life, as I didn’t spend much quality time with him once he reached a good high school age where we could talk on the same level. Even at that, he has (or at least, I assume he still has) a bit of a communication issue where he speaks very loudly and broadly, although he has a big vocabulary and tends to use long words. He always sounds like he’s amazed (or thinks you should be), has his eyes wide, and uses broad gestures to explain himself. He’s also a bit nervous-seeming, due to his hyperactivity—he tends to fiddle and fidget and be physical, which is sometimes unwieldy at his current height of 6’6″, but was even so back when he was shorter than me. 🙂
He and my aunt moved south several years ago—I don’t think I’ve seen him since he was 16. Michael is now 19 and lives in a group home with other… well, other people like him, I guess. He’s high-functioning autistic. According to my aunt, he’s currently enjoying a part time job at a computer repair shop, where he’s well-liked. He’s also lost weight and is down to 250 (from 300+).
Last I heard, he still worshipped the ground I walk on, too. 😉 I’m not sure if that still holds, since I lost touch with him for so long, but it was intense enough before to be disconcerting, if flattering. I need to write him a letter and let him know I miss him.
