What dreams may come

Since I was still recovering from my 5 sleep-deprived Holy Week days, I hit the sack unusually early last night. I don't know if it was because I had had a carbo-loaded dinner or because my body was unaccustomed to the early bedtime, but I ended up having a long, vivid nightmare wherein one of my students of whom I am particularly fond died in an accident. In the dream, I was crying non-stop and inconsolable almost to the point of lunacy. I remember calling Kat and breaking the news to her, and hugging the student's mom at the wake (which oddly enough, was held in a house in North Greenhills... and this student doesn't even live in Greenhills). I wouldn't quit blubbering, and by the time I woke up, I was feeling more exhausted than rested from the 10 hours of sleep I had gotten.

I texted the student this morning and was immensely relieved to find out that she was ok. She even said that it's happened several times already, people dreaming of her dying and then calling to check if she's all right. I found that kind of freaky, but she said that probably means she's going to live a long life. I certainly hope so.

It may seem like I'm overreacting, all this over a silly nightmare, but I was really shaken by the idea of losing one of my kids. I had entertained the notion a few months ago when the Corinthian fire happened, but it didn't hit me as strongly as last night's dream. The pain felt so REAL, and I know for sure that if it really happens, I'd be a total mess. It just seems to violate the natural order of things for my students to go before I do. I suppose that's why it's more tragic when parents lose their children, compared to the other way around.

I've written in this blog before that I've never been good at dealing with death, simply because we've encountered so little of it in our family. Contrary to appearances, I value my relationships a lot, and I imagine losing someone dear to me would hurt tremendously. My nightmare gave me a glimpse of just how much. And although I've been reassured that my student is fine, and the details of the dream are fading in the light of day, the terror still lingers.

I really shouldn't mess with my body clock.