There are several things I want to talk about tonight.  Shall we start with the dreams?

Two lovely, lovely family dreams in the last week:

Date lost: Grandpa and the men of his family (who are not blood relatives to me but are, of course, family) come to pay their respects to me.  There is no setting, it’s just black around us as they all face me and I receive them.  Our vibe is quietly, soberly happy.  Grandpa is there, standing in the middle, and an older man who is his father, in a white shirt, either sits in front of him or is very short from age.  Grandpa’s father’s hair is white and balding and he has  jolly sparkle about him.  Uncle Jeff, wearing sunglasses, gray stubble, and a smile.  Alex (cousin: a jazz-playing monk who lives in France) is impossibly beefy with a bodybuilder’s neck and huge shoulders — he stands at  east ease, hands clasped in front, head bowed, silent, behind the others.  Ryan (the drunk, fuck-up cousin who abandoned his daughter and, last I heard, joined the military) is young and sweet, the only one who touches me.  He hugs me and I can feel his adam’s apple against my neck.

5.24: Dreamed Grammie (great-grandma) went in a back bedroom to talk to D.A. and then came to the kitchen and told me that she’d helped him feel better about not being there with Mom when she died, helped him understand that he wasn’t there  but she was, and that this was right because Grammie knows about dying.  She tells me about it: “I died twice…(something I can’t remember)…Earl [her second husband] was in her bathroom.”  In the dream I thought she was referring to Earl as a “her,” which is weird, to refer to your husband as a woman.  We’re at a gathering, at some kind of grandma’s house that’s like a cross between various past houses of grammie’s/grandma’s.  Grammie speaks to me very lovingly and very matter-of-factly.  It’d been a long time since I dreamed of Grammie.

Real life calls — we’ll finish this later!


~ by Arrrow Marie on May 25, 2009.

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