A Day in the Life of Luis: Dreams (and nightmares)

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Rebecca Aguila

"A Day in the Life of Luis" is a weekly personal column written by Luis Lemus.

Luis Lemus, Co-Sports Editor

There are many people who experience dreams every night.

Then there are some people who are not so lucky.

I have them only one every blue moon with a combination of eclipse, which is to say I have them once every other year and I can’t remember the last time I did.

Until this past week.

There are those of us who are on so much medication that lose the nightly experiences of dreaming or having nightmares.

Maybe it’s the amount of medicine I have to take day-in, day-out but for some reason I have dreamt most nights of my last week and whether they’re good or bad, I am taking them all in with optimism about the future.

“Why?” you may ask.

Simply put, I don’t dream with that anchor of MS holding my ass in a chair. I can walk like a “normie,” doing activities I used to do with nothing holding me back.

To give you an example, I have no idea why but I dreamt I was in, of all places, Wilmington, which is like a city where all the migrants of my dad’s town in Mexico seemed to settle down and make it their home in “El Norte.”

Maybe the reason I had that dream was because I had just seen some pictures of a burrito from Montoya’s on a friend’s story on Facebook the night before, and it immediately brought back memories of being a little kid with my tia Eva babysitting us, with mom and dad away doing their best to earn an honest day’s pay.

The second dream was more of a nightmare to be honest but I am not complaining about it one bit.

The third night was one of a younger Luis, “Gordo,” as I was called among family and some refuse to retire it, or even calling me Luigi.

They are terms of endearment and I embrace it.

Anyway, me and my brother “Guero” were getting ready with my dad for some party, suited and booted little kids.

Sombreros, cowboy shirt tucked into the creased ironed jeans with the belt and the boots with plastic bags over the socks just as we saw Tio Alvaro do in his everyday routine.

The fourth night I was back in Wilmington. This time I was of age and driving after work at the cable company. I went to get my fresh cut with Lex.

Night five was going to Montoya’s for an “oso” burrito with my brother before going to the Wilmington Skills Center to take a welding class so we can get the AWS certification.

I dreamt about one day in particular where my welds weren’t coming out how I wanted and me yelling out every time with every expletive under the sun and then some.

My little brother, being the big brother he is, was in the next welding booth over.

He came into mine and he gave me the advice, only a level-headed big little brother can.

That piece of metal doesn’t care if you’re having a good or bad day.

It’s still going to be there.

“So, take a break and get back to work but leave your emotions out there,” says my brother trying his best to get me to temper down the extreme frustration.

The last one was conversing with my papa Luis (R.I.P) in the home.

He and my grandma worked here for some time before going back and he loved Wilmington.

He had fond memories recalling the church, and the streets “La Avalon”, “La L” and “La Watson” holding fond memories with me hanging onto his every word.

These recalls of this past week’s dreams may be insignificant to you but I am elated they are happening again.

I can’t wait for what tonight brings.