"For now we see through a glass, darkly....." this is a
Biblical quotation from the beginning of a scripture in 1 Corinthians. I have always loved how evocative and poetic
a phrase it is......simple, perfect, no way to improve on it. Enough to impress Ingmar Bergman to use it as
a movie title, and others to use it as the name of episodic TV, songs, and seven novels since 1950 published with that
same title.
Recently I had a dream that
reminded me of the same phrase. I have
long dreamed in Technicolor panoramic dreams.
I won't digress to begin to recount them here. But my dream was like looking through a
lens of a camera into my childhood, like deep within my psyche to retrieve a
long lost memory of my youth. Not one
from my cognitive memory, but one from that hazy time before that, when I would
have been around four or five.
The dream started out with me in
present day, finding an old 8 mm Kodak film canister tucked away into the
buffet in my Dad's basement. I wondered
out loud what was on it. I turned to ask
my Mother, and paused as I remembered that she wasn't there to ask any
more. I put it into a magically appearing
device (dreams are cool like that) and started watching it. I was shocked at the clarity of the
recording! It wasn't faded and orange
tinged like our old family movies. It
was crisp and clear as High Definition televisions are now. It was as if I was there IN it, looking out of
my eyes viewing myself, not as in a movie, but actually on the scene
watching.......invisible.
The scene was a small lake near
Cleveland, Ohio. The lake had a section
of sandy shore that faded into marsh lush with tall green grasses and cat
tails. I was there with my cousins
Laurie and Debbie and my brother Dave.
Dave and I had on matching orange, brown, yellow and white striped
seersucker "sun suits". His
was the boy version with shorts and an overall top with straps that crisscrossed
on the back. Mine was the girly
interpretation with ruffles on the bum.
We were giggling and running through the grass towards the water.
My cousins had on their swimsuits
and their hair was wet from playing in the water. I can see their childish faces as clearly as
the computer on which I am working. I
was chomping at the bit to get into the water and looked back at my
parents………and there they were…….young and laughing with dark brown hair and
slim waists. My Dad standing there with his clip on
sunglasses and my Mom with her hair pulled to the side and in a page boy. It was like a gift! I was in a photo/movie and got to SEE them
again like that. My dad was carrying a
silver Coleman Ice Chest and red plaid Thermos drink dispenser. Mom had a blanket and my little brother Tom
was on her hip. She called to me, “Wait
Sissy, we are going to eat first, you and Davey can go in the water
later.” Davey……I hadn’t heard my brother
called that in years, and wondered when we out grew being Davey and Sissy.
Then I saw my Uncle Bob, tall and
thin with dark hair and that somewhat sly mischievous smile, and twinkle in his
eye as he said, “Hi ya Chucky……..it is about time!” And my Dad responding with, “Whaddya mean old
man?” My mother used to tell me that
when she was in The Rainbow Girls affiliated with the East Glenville Methodist
Church in East Cleveland, all the girls knew the Delamater boys. Bob was the handsome one, and Chucky was the
cute one. As I looked at them, I could
see what she meant.
When I saw my little brother Tom,
I knew how old I must have been in this scene.
He was just over one year old, so I would have been close to 5 and my
brother Dave close to six. My Mom put “Tommy”
down on a blanket and started feeding him watermelon. My cousins ran up and we all clamored for
watermelon. There is such a wonderful
freedom being a kid, in a park, near water and eating watermelon. Being able to bite into it and let the juice
run down your face and arms to your elbows.
The warm sun shining down on your skin, the sweet taste of the
watermelon, the sticky juice getting everywhere, yet knowing you can run over
to the lake and wash it all off. Maybe
next you could get into a watermelon seed spitting contest…….or fight with the
other kids. Simple, silly fun…….with no
electronics involved! No devices, no
chargers, no tweets or texts, no interruptions.
My Brothers and I as children, around the age described.
I looked over at my cousin Laurie
and she had short little bangs and was laughing at her little sister Debbie,
with her hair in pig tails and eating what looked like a giant piece of
watermelon. Then I saw my Aunt Ethel,
young and tan with short blond hair pulled to the side. There was a certain sophistication of the
women of that era, and my Aunt Ethel was no different. She always had a type of cool elegance about
her, a certain confidence that she exuded.
She had it there too, wearing pedal pushers and a crisp white
shirt. I looked over at my Mom, with her
long dark hair and pretty white flowered sun dress and noticed her matching
earrings and necklace at this picnic at the park. Pretty young women, mothers and wives that I so
wished that I could ask questions and talk about life.
Next thing I
knew, I was in the water splashing with my cousins. Dave (not ever keen on water) was sitting on
the shore with a stick poking into the marshy area. Tom was up by my parents playing and
laughing. I remember at that moment
thinking, “Oh Tom will get such a kick out of seeing this movie”. It was like an aside to me in my own
dream. Dave called to us to come and
look at the frog he found. We ran over
to him, and as I felt that cool silt-y bottom of the lake, I could also smell
that mossy, not quite stagnant water scent.
It smells at the same time good and bad, the aroma telling you that
something unknown might be lurking below, and the slimy mud enticing you to
squish it between your toes! I marveled
at this sensory experience and at the childhood wonder that I felt in looking
at the frog.
I looked back at the grownups,
they were talking about work and rent and all the boring stuff that grownups
always talk about. I remember thinking
that if my grandparents were there, they would also be talking about who was in
the hospital and had something taken out of them. I remember thinking how sad it was that they couldn't do cool fun stuff like us kids…….I was at that moment carefree. No worries, no stress, blissfully
unaware…….it was delicious.
The next vignette was of packing
up to go home. I turned to look back at
the lake and saw my Uncle Bob standing there.
I wondered what he was looking at, and then I SAW it, albeit with my
grownup eyes. He was looking at the view
and it was amazing. The early evening
sun cast an orange glow in the sky and the green of the grass was stunning
against the navy shade of the lake. Big
billowy white clouds were in the sky. I
was at once struck with the intensely overwhelming beauty of the moment! I turned and looked back at my folks. My Mom handed my Dad a thermos, his hand
touching hers momentarily, and the sweet knowing smile that they exchanged put
a smile on my face and tugged at my heart.
My brother Dave was running off ahead and I yelled, “Davey, wait for me,
don’t get too far ahead!”
And then, suddenly, I was watching
myself play in the living room of our big “double-decker” house on E. 123rd
Street in East Cleveland. The sun was
streaming into the dining room and I was playing with toys and watching TV on
our very old black and white tube TV with the screen with the rounded edges and
big ROUND knobs. I was wearing a
nightgown with a satiny light blue quilted bathrobe. We always had bathrobes. I never remember running around with just
pajamas, we always wore bathrobes, even in the summer I had a light weight
cotton bathrobe, and summer pajamas too.
How had I forgotten that?
I looked down at myself, lost in
playing with my dolls. “HOUSE” was my
favorite thing to play. I would lose
myself in the details of the game, often recruiting my brothers (under protest)
to participate in the elaborate scenarios swirling in my brain. Alas……Tommy was ALWAYS either the baby or the
little brother! And Dave was ALWAYS the
Dad or older brother……..but LESLIE – she was without a doubt THE MOM – and
running the show! HA HA! I saw my light brown hair and short bangs and thought to myself, “Aww, you pretty
little, sweet little thing – I just want to give you a hug.” So I sat down next to myself and reached out
and put my hand on my little girl arm, only to have my little girl arm shake it
off and start wiggling around. She
yelled to my Mom………”Mommy, someone is touching me and it gives me the creeps!” My Mom walked into the room, “lickety split”
(one of her favorite sayings, that also described her quick natured ways) in her
navy shorts, plaid shirt tied at her waist, hair in pin curls covered by the
pink silk scarf that my Dad bought for her on their honeymoon in Niagara Falls
and said, “Well come here honey, I will take a look at it.”
And then…….. I woke up…………………
I was, at once, overwhelmed by
feelings. Was it real? Was it a memory? Was it my imagination? I felt both happiness and sadness. I was happy to have been able to go there and
sad at missing my Mom, Uncle and Aunt.
Was it a dream, were they there, was I?
I don’t know. But it was kind of
like looking through a glass darkly.
