Dreams are wonderful things
Sleep has been playing tag with me. Sometimes I catch it, sometimes I don't. It certainly doesn't help that I've been getting prank phone calls in the middle of the night either. But what has really disturbed me over the past two months is that I can't seem to remember many of my dreams. Usually, I am a very lucid dreamer, dreaming in color and 3-D and remember them vividly but that hasn't been the case as of late. Last night changed all that.
Last night I dreamed of Frank. This is my dear friend who passed away in 1986. Sometimes when I dream of him I can't tell whether I am dreaming or whether he is truly visiting me on the dream plane. Sometimes it feels like a dream but other times, I know it's really him. Last night I'm sure it was really him. We were just patching up a slightly bruised friendship when he was suddenly gone from my life. I have wondered since his passing whether he still loved me. I wonder no more. There he was in his bright turquoise blue sleeveless t-shirt and dark blue jeans with his ratty sneakers. Saturday had been his birthday as well as Liam's service and I never got a chance to visit him at the cemetery so I was feeling pretty bad. But there he was, smiling, shaking his head, saying "silly goose, of course I still love you. Why have you wasted so many years thinking otherwise?". Then we hugged long and hard, he kissed me on the head and we walked and talked for what seemed like hours. I woke up happy and refreshed and even now I am still bouncing. Plus he had some things to say that truly lifted my spirits but that is for another entry.
Last night I dreamed of Frank. This is my dear friend who passed away in 1986. Sometimes when I dream of him I can't tell whether I am dreaming or whether he is truly visiting me on the dream plane. Sometimes it feels like a dream but other times, I know it's really him. Last night I'm sure it was really him. We were just patching up a slightly bruised friendship when he was suddenly gone from my life. I have wondered since his passing whether he still loved me. I wonder no more. There he was in his bright turquoise blue sleeveless t-shirt and dark blue jeans with his ratty sneakers. Saturday had been his birthday as well as Liam's service and I never got a chance to visit him at the cemetery so I was feeling pretty bad. But there he was, smiling, shaking his head, saying "silly goose, of course I still love you. Why have you wasted so many years thinking otherwise?". Then we hugged long and hard, he kissed me on the head and we walked and talked for what seemed like hours. I woke up happy and refreshed and even now I am still bouncing. Plus he had some things to say that truly lifted my spirits but that is for another entry.