It Is What It Is
I'm not writing this story for sympathy or pity, but for selfish reasons. I'm doing it for self therapy and hopefully self healing. I have learned of this along with other experiences many years later. The more I talk about it maybe the better.
My early memories of childhood dreams.
Firstly, I remember laying at that stage between consciousness and sleep with my head on the pillow. Before I knew it was my heartbeat; I thought the pounding I heard, was my father coming to get us. My brother and I slept in the same room. He was a rather large man, an alcoholic and violent. He was quite intelligent too. He believed a body in motion tended to stay in motion. He used his sons to prove the basic physics theory.
Dream 2 was due to my mother's hatred of men. This dream repeated itself in childhood. Before me three caskets; one directly in front of me empty, ready for a recipient. A casket to its left with my father already dead and laying inside. To the left of the (center casket) another empty one with my brother standing at the foot of that one. To my left, standing between myself and brother were my mother and aunt waiting silently, for obvious reasons.
The reason for the hatred of men by my mother was due to the fact I was the by product of a violent act between parents. My mother made it clear to me as a child that my father raped her and I was the by product of that act. I didn't know the official definition of the word 'rape' at the time, but I knew it was a bad thing. Later in life, she returned the favor onto me.
Sometimes life cycles through for better or for worse. :-)