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Possible Impossibilities
Are the Ladders Real?
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The first time I saw my father cry, I thought the world had ended.
For him, it had.
I was eight years old, sound asleep, having one of the most lucid dreams I’d ever experienced, as I lay in my bed and the ceiling dissolved above me to reveal a clear, starlit night. There, hovering overhead, was my great grandpa and he was floating away like a helium balloon whose ribbon had just been cut.
As I watched him drift off into the night, becoming smaller and smaller, I stood up and wished that I might follow. The wonderful part of dreams is that they are much more accommodating than real life, and relief set in as a series of ladders appeared in the sky.
I grabbed the lowest one and started climbing. When I reached the top, there was another one waiting, and I latched onto it, quickly ascending. It seemed no matter how many ladders I climbed or how hard I tried, I couldn’t catch up to my grandpa.
Just as I was working myself into a panic in my all-too-real dream state, the telephone in the living room rang loudly and woke me. I lay awake, my heart pounding wickedly, thankful I was in the comfort of my own bed instead of lost somewhere in the sky.
