DREAMS

At first I blamed the late night dinners. Then the tropical climate. Next I targeted the hotel pillows. Or could it be the street lights? Sirens? Finally, I toyed with the thought that maybe becoming a grandmother again had me in a state of mental flux...

I'm still not sure how to pinpoint the cause of my crazy dreams for the past 2 months but, night after night, I spun one after the other and awoke feeling overwhelmed, amazed, confused, disturbed, enchanted.

My dreams usually involved much family, both dead and alive, and there was never a moment when it was carefree or relaxing. No, instead each escapade was fraught with turmoil, exhausting labor, conundrum after conundrum to solve and never solid solutions to any of them.My parents starred in almost every one, my long deceased brother Dan paid a call at least once or twice, my husband, my children and even my pets. Oddly, my two grandchildren, upon which I was consumed the entire time I was visiting Miami, never entered my dreams at all.

The most memorable dream for me began at the farm where I grew up. It was approaching dusk and it appeared a storm was on the horizon. I was standing in a plowed field east of the house and near the old red granary which had been torn down decades ago. My Dad was driving a tractor towards the yard. My Mom appeared in the kitchen window and I was suddenly transported to the lawn as the ground began heaving and cracking. Suddenly, the walls of the house were laid flat, I saw my brothers, even long gone Dan, surround my Mom. Dad and I were attempting to make it it the house. We were separated by islands of land suspended in sky. Somehow we made it, Dad and I and the rest of my family clutched at each other around the old dining room table. When I looked at the floor, I was struck by the carpet. It was the very first wall to wall carpeting my parents had installed in the late 1960's when braided rugs over hardwood maple floors seemed way behind the times.


I'm not sure if I woke up then and rolled over for more adventure or if this was a seamless segue, but my next episode found me at my farm at Cricket Meadow. I was walking through the house with my cousin Cindy and her husband Greg. They were caretakers for me at the farm while I was away and were were trying to solve the dilemma of a foot of water standing in each room. Cindy was wearing a long black wool coat, adorned with a rhinestone pin and had her makeup all in place, including glossy pink lips. Greg was decked in a navy suit and tie. I have no idea what I was wearing, but I was deeply concerned about their feet getting wet. As we pondered the water issue, we bumped into my Mom in the kitchen. She was trying hard to make a stack of antique plates stand propped against the wall of my counter, but they kept crashing and clattering out of place. At that moment, my eye was drawn to a life-sized ceramic figurine of a Victorian lady being moved across the room, by whom and to where, I'm not sure. Finally, we made our way upstairs to the master bedroom and bath but it looked nothing like what I remembered. While I was trying to get my bearings, all of a sudden, my foot was bleeding and two of Cindy and Greg's grown sons, Graham and Colin, rushed to my aid. But blood was leaving my body so fast, we soaked towel after towel in an attempt to staunch the flow. And then I woke up.

Night after night, I was on one Alice in Wonderland adventure after another. It left me scratching my head each morning and trying to make some sense of the collection of images floating through my mind as I remembered them.

I have been home for almost a week now and haven't had or remembered a dream since.