Day ~64 Mom and Dad, (addendum to last post)


Photo courtesy Google Street View

A dream in which my dad was pointing out a house to me after remarking that it finally had a coloring it had when he lived near it. It was on a hill and the coloring was a sort of a pale rust, and definitely powdery. He stood behind me, moved my head towards the house and pointed with his right hand, his left on my shoulder. He asked me if I remembered walking past it when I was young.

Later in the dream I realized it was the setting for a Tom Petty music video because I could see people (including elderly women in victorian garb and very weird shoes) and objects from a song he never wrote or sang or made a video of.

I think the house was a building from my past that my mom and I would walk past when we went to visit my dad at the auto shop.


Photo Courtesy National Today Website

The moth with the pale rust colored wings that flew in the kitchen last night and evaded our attempts to shoo it outside again. When it landed on the counter I covered it with a glass and then gently scooped it into my hand and walked it out the door. As it sat on the first knuckle of my index finger I noticed its wings barely moving, but moving very quickly. I was reminded of the dream I had about my mom the night she died, when she stood at the window, her arms behind her moving quickly, but only slightly. I then said to the moth, “Hi Mom! Thank you for stopping by to say hello. I love you and I miss you. I had a dream about Dad last night.” With that she flew off into the dusk.

Day 24: Meeting Hickory

I awoke this morning from a very vivid dream in which I was at a party in St. Louis. The party was in a huge modern home on a hill* overlooking the city. For a while I mingled with other people, then I sat in the living room on a long white sofa which was flanked by two red chairs. A glass-topped coffee table sat between the chairs. I may or may not have had a glass of wine in my hand.

At some point I decided that, since I was close to Hickory’s house, I’d take a walk and see if I could find it. I did, and spoke to her three children about the unusual rocks found in the yard. I found a circular shaped one, turquoise and white, with a hole in the middle. One of her daughters said it would make a good pendant. Then I remembered that Andrew had gone to day camp there and Hickory had taught him all about these special rocks. I asked the kids where their mom was, and they took me into the house to find her. I thanked her for teaching Andrew about the rocks. She was busy and I had to get back to the party.

When I got back to the party, everyone was on the balcony listening to Donald Trump who was standing on a platform on the balcony. I remember becoming furious that he was at this party — was he even invited? If so, why was I invited? I remember balling up my fists wanting to cause pain before I left the balcony and headed to the kitchen where there were others who were just as upset as I was.

Then there was commotion in the living room and DT was lying on the long white sofa sobbing. We were all asked to sign statements that we would tell no one that we saw DT in tears.

My entire day was clouded by this dream, but at least I met Hickory and that was delightful.

*Are there even hills in St. Louis?

Day 4: The Last Wednesday

I finished moving files off my computer to my work OneDrive — something I should have been using long before now. There’s not a lot of work left to do, and I am required to work all day Friday. I have two meetings tomorrow, well, actually one meeting (overhead) and one goodbye Zoom-ish meeting.

I find dreaming a delight, unless it is a nightmare, then that is the opposite of a delight. I’ve been dreaming a lot lately about travel; either being somewhere other than here, or being at an airport or on an airplane. Although in my waking dream this morning my cousin, Beth, and I went to prom together, or we were planning on going to prom and were in the middle of prom practice. All of these dreams could have been delights, but Covid-19 influenced all of them. In these dreams I either forgot my mask or people around me were showing symptoms of the virus. So, although these dreams were not quite nightmares, neither were they delights.

I remembered one delightful dream I had exactly 4 years ago, though:

I flew to Illinois when my brother called and told me that the visiting nurse said our mother had only days left to live. I arrived around nine at night and after sitting next to my mother’s rented hospital bed in my brother’s dining room for a few hours, we decided we should move into the living room and try to get some sleep. I slept fitfully at first, hearing the raspy sound of my mother’s breathing, the death rattle. Finally I slept, and dreamed.

In the dream, my mother tried to get out of bed but her pastor (not Pastor Keith, but the one who took over for him) pushed her back onto her bed and enlisted us to help. Mom (now a slender, black-haired teen again) pushed past those of us trying to keep her in the bed and ran to the window, stood on her tiptoes and fluttered her hands behind her. She did this with every window in the room (which was a huge room full of many windows), like a moth to a flame. The pastor was still insisting we put her back into bed. As she passed me I grabbed her and tried to hold her in a tight hug but then she dissolved into hundreds of sparkles of light and I felt a shock of electricity fly up my arms and into my heart. The sparkles of light flew out the nearest window and I briefly woke up and could no longer hear my mother struggling to breathe in the next room.

When I awoke again later, my brother told me Mom was gone, but I already knew it because I saw her spirit become part of the air.

Teenage Patsy in Two Rivers