Once Upon a Dream…

Saving Grace Roses

Recently, I had a dream about my high school friend, Betty Rae. She looked at me welcomingly. Her features were sharp, clear as day, as if she were still alive and in her prime. We hugged and reminisced about things we’d done as young girls. It was a sweet moment and I woke up missing her.

I’m not sure if it’s old age setting in, but lately I have been dreaming (quite vividly, mind you) of people I’ve known over the years who have passed from this earth. Usually, they appear clear as if they are still very much alive. In the dreams, we have conversations, some long-ish, some not so much. Though I take nothing for granted, I do fantasize that our friendships have survived and for that I feel relieved.

I don’t know if this type of dreaming is common among the aging but it does seem natural for me. I feel comforted, and strangely, not alone. Certainly, I have friends who are still alive and functioning well. We talk about politics, art, writing, you name it and there is a sense of closeness but it’s not the same. There is something otherworldly about my dream relationships, they are different—and yet real.

My sister says she doesn’t remember her dreams. I have other friends who admit this as well. My dreams are usually in color and generally an odd mixture of nonsense and premonition. Some nights I have what I call “a night of a thousand dreams” in which I dream, dream, dream and dream. If I wake during the night, I pounce back into the dream state and continue on through the night, then wake in the morning as if I haven’t slept a wink.

To say I have a vivid imagination is not an exaggeration. It does help with my work as a writer and illustrator though. Dream on, I say…