The Gift of a Dream

 

I just woke up from having the most wonderful dream I have had in a really long time. You know the kind of dream where everything seems so right and put together. The details are vivid and tangible. The sense of touch was believable and comforting.

I do not really know how often I dream since I do not usually remember my dreams. So you can understand why I am so excited by this dream. The other reason I am excited, as you may have guessed, is because it was about my dear friend.

This dream makes me so happy.

Come with me as I try to reconstruct the details of the scene. We were in a house but not necessarily her house. Right as you walked in was a large dining room table much the size of hers when it fully extended for the whole family to fit around it. Someone, not a family member, was decorating the table with a white table cloth.

In an adjacent room was her bed. She was in bed but she did not look very ill as she had for so many months. I was happy to see that she looked more like herself only in bed. The funny thing is she was crocheting. I could see her hands carefully working the crochet hook and the white thread. There is a rhythm to crocheting.

Interesting that she was crocheting since the last hand work she did was counted cross stitch not crocheting.

I was on the bed beside her, talking with her. It was a weird conversation. I seemed to know that she was already dead but she didn’t know. In fact she may have thought I was the one dead because she waved her hand toward me. She waved her hand to see if I was a ghost; which would have no substance. It was comical now that I think about it.

She was looking at me so lovingly so intently. I told her she was going to die in a few months. She did not seem too concerned. She just raised her eyes up glancing for a moment toward me.

The bedside lamp was shining brightly down on the bed. She was dressed mostly all in white and the sheets were soft and white as well. She was covered up to her waist.

If she was in heaven she did not seem to know. Really she did not seem to know that she was even dead.

To prove to her that I was really there I moved close enough to hold her near my heart in a long embrace. It felt so good to hug her again…even if it was only in a dream.

I was able to share what was the future for her. I was the one who had gone back in time but yet she was not aware of all that had transpired. Perhaps it is true that when you die the constraints of time are no longer binding you. After death time has no function no purpose…you simply do not need time.

Her husband was there working in the house since there seemed to be a plumbing problem. Too funny since most men dread having to work on plumbing.

Midway through the dream I go outside to get into my car. It is dark now. The police are in the process of towing my car away…I do not know the reason. I stand there powerless to stop the towing process and away my car goes.

I ask the officer exactly how I was supposed to get home. He suggests I let this stranger passing by take me home which I strongly object to. I was not getting into the car with a stranger. (I learned that as a child!)

So I return to the house. When I go in no one notices that I have been gone. But it seems that I had been gone for some time, maybe a year judging from the conversation I then had with my friend.

I went directly to her side. We once again exchanged eye contact. I could see how the light was dancing off of her pupils…dazzling were her eyes really.

This time our conversation was how she had been dead for nine months. She listened without showing much emotion. She did not seem alarmed or concerned that she was dead. She seemed content and comfortable. She was not in any pain, but she was still in the same bed.

I could hear others in the next room once again making the table ready for another meal. She loved to have people over and entertain. She loved to feed people. It was her way of making you feel accepted in her home. She was always ready to feed you something even when she went vegan. Tofu is not really a favorite of mine.

The part of this dream I really want to hold on to the most was my hugging her. As humans we thrive on touch, as many studies have revealed. We need to feel the warmth of another living body. We need to feel the closeness of another life.

I cannot explain why this embrace is so important to me except that it represented her being alive to me even in a dream. While I do miss her very much I do not long for her to be alive again. Maybe I am just selfish, but I would not want to repeat the last four years of her illness.

The beauty of this dream was also that while I knew she was sick she looked like her cancer free self. Her hair looked healthy once again. It had body to it…it was almost fluffy…light and airy.

I am so thankful I had this dream and that I have recorded it here. I know that with the passage of time details fade into faint memories. I will come back to this entry often and remember how I felt love and peace during this dream.

Not sure where dreams come from, but I do believe they have some valid content for the dreamer. Maybe dreams come from deep within your soul…the brain then draws up the details into your subconscious and creates the personalized dream just for you.

In my waking days I carry her with me;

what a gift to have her with me in my night of restful sleep too.

The Precious Gift of a Dream!

Incomplete Words: Missing Letters

As I sit before the computer keyboard today I am at a loss for words. What more is there to say? What happens when we run out of words? Is that when we cease to exist? If there are no more words that need to be said that must be the end. I do not really believe lack of words is an ending.

There are times when words do not suffice. There are times when words get in the way. There are times when words are not necessary. If this is true then why do we miss the words once spoken by a loved one?

Many years ago I had a dream that I was sitting in the bath tub full of water reading what seemed like a newspaper. It was large and I had to lift up my arms to keep it out of the water. The letters seemed so black against the bright white paper.

I was not actually reading the words they were just there upon the page. Letters near each other forming words spread apart with white empty space. Some of the letters pushed into the top of the empty space, while others pushed below the invisible bottom line.

Just when I thought I could actually read what these letters had formed together they slowly began to slide into the bath water. They did not disappear or dissolve; they just floated about aimlessly in the water. Some of the letters gradually sank into the water, but still retaining their properties of color, shape and size.

What these letters had lost was their coherent ability to communicate. You see they needed to be with the other letters in order for me to decipher their message. Each letter alone could not convey the same message. Sometimes I feel like a letter that has fallen off the page searching for the rest of my word.

I think that is what it is like when a loved one is gone. Either their letter is missing from the word or you have dropped out of the word. I do not know which.

There are certainly times in a relationship when you can just ‘be’ and words are not necessary. Silence in a relationship is often thought of as a sign of mature love. We do not always speak words that convey our deepest feelings and emotions.

Returning to my dream; as the letters floated about the tub it came time to let the water out. From here I do not have a clear memory so I will create my own ending. I guess it is called artistic liberty. Here is the ending I would have wanted.

When the letters had all slipped down the drain, having no other choice; there were four letters remaining in the bottom of the tub.  Somehow these four letters manage to remain because when all else is gone these four letters find a way to cling to whatever they can. I know you can guess what four letters…L…O…V…E

They will always remain because they are fixed in the soul of the one who loves and fixed in the soul of the one who is loved.

The greatest of all is love. Love never dies or fades away. Love spans fathoms.

When there are no words to be spoken there is love. When no words can be spoken there is love. When the ears can no longer hear the spoken words there is love.

Sometimes the best way love can be expressed is through music. I am listening to Michael Hoope’s  CD Solace. Music has this magnificent ability to wrap around you and sneak into your heart.

I have not run out of words, they have just taken on a different context. Today the words are not on a page or on the bottom of the bathtub. Words today are in the silent recesses of my heart. There they are safe and will not fall from a page or slip down the drain.