I Dreamed A Little Dream

Vent time: Sorry for the corny stuff everyone but I just had to write about this. A couple nights ago I had a dream about my late brother Salvador Lua who passed away when I was 18 years old in 2001. He was 35 years old, married to our sister-in-law Sylvia, and has a little girl we all call Miniquis. I often write/talk about him and praise him for stepping into our lives as the father figure after my dad Rafael Lua passed away in May 1995. For those of you who know me well, I often get dreams about my dad and Chava (Salvador’s nick name). And sometimes there are a little hard to handle. I’ve actually written about this before as you may see in my previous blogs. But this dream was a very sweet dream that felt so real. It wasn’t sad or depressing. It only got sad when I woke up and realized it was just a dream. Well anyway, in the dream Chava, Sylvia and Miniquis were living in Indio, which is about an hour away from our hometown of Brawley, and owned a very successful Mexican restaurant. On a Saturday afternoon, my brother Edgar, my sister Vanessa, my mother, and I all went to go visit them for the day. We had lunch at his restaurant and then went and spent the day at his beautiful house with his family. It felt as if nothing ever happened. So un-interrupted and peaceful. It was beautiful. So, inspired by my dream, I decided to write a little poem about it. I hope you like it.


I dreamed a little dream

It wasn't real but yet realistic
I swear I could hear your voice
I saw you there with your girls
Now my eyes begin to moist

You welcomed us like you always did
With open arms into your home
You’re little one calling you “dad”
It’s so hard to write this poem

Seeing a “could have been” life
Wondering if you would have been this happy
It’s not fair, my 18 years were still short
But I consider myself lucky

It doesn’t matter how much time may pass
Or endless prayers I send over the moon
My scars have yet to be healed
My heart is still an open wound

The clitter clatter of your keys
The breathy sound of your laughter
The simple things one can miss
The simple things you think of after

Your devotion to our mother
The protection you bestowed upon me
The love you had for us all
We carry whole-heartedly

Though we don’t see you every day
We’re known for all having the same eyes
I see you at the sight of Edgar or a sister
Maybe I never have to say goodbye

But for now keep visiting my dreams
They’re all I’ve got and hang on to
They may make me cry
But at least in them I get to love you

Love Always,
Your Sister Chena