The Mad Bull’s Blog, Version 3

Man, I had the weirdest dream this morning. I dreamed for what seemed like a long time, and it was SO real.
I dreamed about myself dying… and I dreamed of my father dying too… or, not really about him dying, but about his being dead, and about his funeral.

The weird thing about dreaming about my Dad’s funeral though was that his funeral was at some church in Liguanea that I have never even been to! In real life, his funeral was at Stella Maris Church. In the dream, the funeral wasn’t even at a Catholic church! Hey, my Dad was well known and loved in real life, and his funeral was packed with people… they filled the church. Well, in the dream, the church was rammed too, he got a real good send off, but why would I dream about him being sent off from the wrong church. It was also odd, the whole focus on Liguanea. After all, when Dad died, he had been living in the Manor Park area for several years already… maybe twelve to fifteen years or so.

I am not really worried about dreaming about my own death, because Natty has always told me that dreaming of death means money and Lord knows I could use some money now.

But why would I dream about my Dad’s funeral. Weird!

And then the dream ended where I was walking up through Liguanea and on, all the way up to Papine! Can you believe it? Me, walking up to Papine! WTF! In real life, I make it a practice to only drive through certain areas (the more depressed areas, where it sometimes seems like anything can happen to a man like me who people think has money), and Papine qualifies as one of those areas, IMHO… though I have been into Papine on foot, back in my UWI days. I know that bad things can happen anywhere still, but why tempt fate by walking through a poor, depressed area when everyone there thinks you have money, right? You know how it is in Jamaica, every brown man is expected to have money and to be better off than the rest of the people!

And yet, it seemed real. And when I got to the Square up there, a taxi man recognised me and approached me. I saw him approaching and mistook him for a beggar. In the dream, as I was walking along, lots of people walked up to me and were begging me for money. Well, the beggars were swarming me, bwoy! And I was turning them all back, saying that I was “sauf’ right now”. (soft right now, or broke at the moment).

Anyway, the man said to me that he was a taxi man and he could take me home to Wellington Drive (which is where the family home was when we lived in Liguanea) even though I didn’t have any money, as long as I promised him that I would pay him later. He knew me, you see, even though I had no idea who he was (Lets call him Unknown Taximan (UTM)).

So anyway, we were walking to his car when I was hailed by by ANOTHER taximan. This one knew me AND him I recognised as one that I had used before (Known Taxi Man (KTM). UTM told KTM that this time he had lost out because this time I was his fare. KTM capitulated, and we got into the UTM’s taxi.

KTM came along with us for the ride, (I know, weird, right?) and he asked me if I had told UTM that my Dad had died. UTM exclaimed in disbelief, and KTM carried on with the story, telling him about my Dad’s funeral, and how it was so beautiful, and how the church was packed, and so on, and that was when I woke up, crying. I felt so sad!

What kind of a fucked up dream is that to have on Father’s Day?!

Maybe Natty was right and I shouldn’t have eaten that mango so late in the night. It was really sweet though!

Anyway, Happy Father’s Day, Dad! I really, really miss you.

And Happy Father’s Day to all the Dad’s who are good fathers out there!

To all the men who are not doing a good job at the “fatherhood” thing, its Father’s Day, fool! Wake up and take on your responsibility and do a better job!

You know, I was wondering… When I die, will lots of people come to my funeral. If I were still living in Jamaica, maybe. Now that I am in Cayman though, I wonder. How many people know me? How many like me… or at least, like me enough to get dressed up in all those hot clothes and go to church to sit for an hour in the heat… Hmmm…. Probably not that many.

I guess I won’t care too much at that time though.

I-man gone, yah?! TTYL.

Tags: I wonder..., Questions, Questions, Questions..., Sad, Thoughtful // 6 Comments »