You dream good!

Man, when you dream, you dream good...I read this.  My mind stopped - dead halt.  I read again.  I can't think.  Third, fourth readings - glimmers, but I think this one is deep, and layers will emerge as we move forward.

I understand the barren field, and that we are the only ones in it.  I feel like our family life/history is a minefield - the dead aftermath of a long battle.  Nothing survived, and we have to watch out for land mines left behind.  (I hear voices - Shut up.  Be Good.  You're bad. This is private!   echoing in the potential explosions.)  We are the only ones examining the battle scene, looking for clues, explanations, history.  Think about the little girls we having been digging out of their graves.  The box in my dream is a shipping crate, but a body in a box is strong symbolism for a coffin. 

I just got a sense of resurrection...this is slamming into my center.  It hurts.

We have this dead battlefield, and you and I are alive.  We're nowhere near healthy, but we are alive and aware.

We are burying the abused/abusers.  They died - that is passive - we didn't do it.  They have worm sized bodies - so, could that mean we are burying part of them?  I also had the sense of planting really big seeds.

Why is our youngest brother healthier than the older three?  What does he have that keeps him smiling, keeps him hopeful about life?  What is his tool?

My kids like him, because of his easy-going humor, and because he doesn't make them feel nervous.

Thoughts flooding my mind - I am finding my lost selves cast aside in lonely places, stuffed in boxes, wandering unnoticed.  What if the cylinders protect the boys allowing for their eventual resurrection?  What if B#4 never died.  I know he suffered, I remember almost puking when Dad hit him once, he's hurt, but what if he never died the way the other three did at the moment of first violation...