“…’Cause I have wandered through this world/And as each moment has unfurled/I’ve been waiting to awaken from these dreams…” (Jackson Browne)
This morning, just before the RINGING of the doorbell awakened me, I dreamt that I was with my mother and dead father in this house (I believe it was either in their bedroom, or in the kitchen)….my father must have been in his early 50’s, judging from my ‘view’ of his face (no grey hair) and the timbre of his voice….listening to him speak, I felt that I had never noticed how compassionate and kind he was (but WHY the sense of never having noticed this ‘before’ ?)…..I contorted my torso and neck in order to kiss him on his left cheek (it was an oddly difficult manoeuver), but I was able to kiss him (did I murmur: “I love you, Dad” ?)…….I felt like crying, felt acute sadness and REGRET………(I feel LOST)….
I dreamed I had some sort of job in an important institution. The company was about to open it’s doors to the public, but the building was still under renovation. A gigantic old factory building.
It was difficult for me to get through the triple security gate with my bike. It was made for cars. Got stuck several times.
Finally at my work station a Canadian approached me, he wanted help with an illustration. We got talking and he seemed to think I could do better than this job. I told him of my idea for a sculpture: The female Scientist.
He left briefly and by the time he got back I had finished the illustration and also googled “A Female Scientist”. There was my model, in the first search result: A futuristic glowing construct from a 1920s futurist movie by that name.
The Canadian returned and took some crumpled bills from his pocket and thanked me. I wanted to decline the payment, but he said he had made so much money in Turkey recently, I should keep it. We parted on friendly terms.
I dreamed that I was doing a performance (at a festival/workshop of sorts), where I walked from the shore steadily into the ocean until completely submerged and invisible.
But instead of being steep and deep as usual, the water was so shallow that I walked and walked and it took forever.
1) Jo. . . I had so little sleep last night that I was able to take a 2-hour dayNap. . . at some point, I was awakened (or OVERtaken?) by the feeling—no, the certainty—that my father was here, asleep with my mother in their bedroom. . . I thought: this is REAL— he IS alive—and when I got out of bed and walked down the hallway and peered into their room. . .YES, he was there…andTHEN I woke up…I hopeYou & C. are WELL! (is he over his illness?)
Mata ne! Ron
2) I see it is 3AM on the clock in the bedroom in the picture of the dream in the book. . . that is my usual bedtime now (unless it is 4 or even 5). . . I dream of my father often, and always know he is a ghost. . . he was LIKE a ghost months before he died. . . taking sleeping pills and invariably wandering into my room at 1 or 2 AM to sit in the chair at the foot of my
bed (placed there for him), half-asleep. . . maybe a haunting??
3) I have had close to a dozen Father-is-Alive-and- Well dreams: they are always disorienting, and make me feel sad and a bit frightened. . .WELL, even though I can never successfully interact with my father in those dreams, I DO get to SEE him (and that was often the way of our non-dream relationship, too)
(the last items of food my father requested a day or two before his final hospitalization. . . on the shelf in the pantry, untouched for 6 years now)