Aren’t dreams so interesting?
I have always been a dreamer, one who recalls the dreams including the people and emotions that come with them. Not all my dreams are beautiful and light. Some cause me anxiety and fear.
Right now it's 4:30 a.m.--what my dad called “oh dark thirty.” I just woke up from this dream.
I came upon an abandoned baby in my home. I left her in a bassinet with someone in the house. The baby’s face was not clear but I could tell she was malnourished and so very tiny. She was cold and had a cry so quiet it sounded like a kitten.
I had to run an errand but I would be right back. The nurse was coming to see what we could do for the baby.
I then found myself in yet another home. The people there was a displaced family. I had food, clothes, and words of encouragement for them. I told them to make themselves comfortable, to make this place their home, and stay as long as they wanted. Then I left.
When I returned home, the baby was crying her soft meow. My mother was now on the couch. I sat in the recliner and held the baby close. I was unable to soothe her tears. I watched as her body shook silently with unheard sobs. My heart hurt for this poor baby I could not help. I felt helpless and useless.
Suddenly from under my leg, a phone rang. I wasn’t even aware I had a cordless phone with me. I picked up the receiver.
“Hello,” I said, fearing the worst.
“Hey there, I just thought I would give you a call and check up on you,” said the voice on the other end. I almost dropped the phone. Instead, I held it far from my face, staring at it. I looked over at my mother and just continued listening to this other-worldly voice.
“You need to support the baby’s head and give her a warm blanket,” the voice said.
He spoke about how spring was almost here–only 8 more days. He asked how the girls were. How many cars had Kelsey sold and was Kendra ok?
All I could do was nod at the phone, not sure how this could be happening.
It was my dad.
“I am sorry baby girl. I wish I had been a better person for you. I love you and I will be in touch.”
The phone disconnected and I began to cry. Was I dreaming still or was I awake? As I felt my mouth work silent words, I realized I was awake.
And for the first time, since my dad died last month, I wept.
Thank god I am a dreamer. I have spent my entire life dreaming, moving from one world into the other. If I couldn’t dream and remember them, I would have missed the last call from my dad. The message I needed to hear would have gone unanswered.
Dreams can scare us to a level of terror or fill us with a love we didn’t know we needed. They have the ability to take us places we never expected to go, allowing us to speak to ones lost to us, to create a connection that was broken.
Oh yes, aren’t dreams interesting?
