Bad Dreams

Last night, I had the nightmare of all nightmares. I mean, it topped them all. Thanks, Shoney's, for that huge peach cobbler I ate right before bed. It's all your fault.

So my parents are out of town, right. My brother and I still live at home, so it was just us home for the night. Not a problem. We're big kids.

However, lately I've been having trouble falling asleep right away. So, like every night for the past week, I lay in bed for literally an hour or more before I finally even began to feel sleepy. Last night was no exception. Not only was I not tired, but there was this crazy dog barking non-stop somewhere down the street. I mean, that never happens. And of course it made me think back to when I was in Haiti and the dogs would start barking and howling in a way that sends shivers down your back. I don't know if it was my imagination or if I was just creeping myself out, but it was like that dog just starting howling louder and louder and I just couldn't take it anymore: one, because I couldn't fall asleep. Two, because it was really scaring me.

Plan B: pick up my covers and pillow (and eventually heater, for the noise) and I moved to the couch. Once there, I fell asleep no problem.

But the sleep wasn't dreamless. It was horrible.

I dreamed that two men were breaking into the house. I dreamed that it was just Ricky and I, so it felt like it was really happening. I mean it was so real.

Ricky came and got me. We decided the best place to hide would be the bathtub, so we quickly sneaked to the bathroom and lay awkwardly in the bathtub. We could hear their voices. I've never seen so much terror in my brother's eyes.

The footsteps got closer. The voices got angrier. I held my breath. I knew they were going to find us.

The shower curtain snapped open. A hand reaches and grabs my brother. A knife goes to his throat. I begged him to let go of him, I swore I would do anything. Fortunately, the other friend told him they had no time, that they had to get out of there and he let him go.

I woke up to hear footsteps running down the stairs and light-switch came on. "Ricky?" ... "Yeah?"

I've never been more relieved to hear my brother's voice.

Ironically, just yesterday Ricky was telling our nephew Gabe a story about when he was little and he lost control of his bike. While he told the story, I saw it in my mind's eye like it happened just yesterday. I remember running to my brother and grabbing his shaking hand and taking him inside to mom.

It's so easy to forget those times and to forget that I'm the older one. It seems now we've switched roles. He acts more like my older brother than ever...being protective, taking command of situations. Nevertheless, he is still my little brother.

And no matter how old we get, he will always be my little brother. The one I would literally do almost anything for. I don't thank God enough for him.

Thank you, God, for my brother.