Dreaming

I've been dreaming about older family members a lot lately. It doesn't take a psychiatrist to figure out why; I'm spending many, many hours making a Family History scrapbook/album. Now I have begun re-doing my Mother's old 1936-1952 photo album, which is falling apart. My dreams are being peopled with family members no longer with us.

When I wake from one of these dreams I lie in bed and go over the dream in my mind, fixing it in my memory. Although dreams are never really logical and frequently change characters and locations, mixing elements from many times and places, still there is a sweetness to spending the time with loved ones. I feel good after one of these dreams.

One recent night I dreamed about visiting my parents. In the dream they were both alive and well and in their 90s. They showed their ages, but were still getting around fine and our visit was a very loving time. In real life my father died at 73, while my mother lived almost 95 years. They did not really share old age. But this dream was so sweet I treasure it.

My Grandma 

Another dream amused me greatly. To understand why it did, I need to give a little background about my Grandmother. She was born in 1886 and lived to see, via her TV, men walking on the moon. In her youth she traveled by horse and buggy, but lived to fly across the country in jet planes. She was a remarkable woman and I will probably write more about her later, but one thing she never quite mastered was the automobile clutch. She taught herself to drive in an old pickup out on the homestead prairie. One of her younger sons, riding with her while she practiced, cried out, "Maybe you should read the instructions!" To ride with Grandma was to experience what we called her jackrabbit starts and stops. Sometimes the stops killed the engine. That pesky clutch!

Now, back to the dream. Grandma was riding in the backseat of the car. Driving was my husband, and I was in the front passenger seat. The street we were on was rather rough and ridged. It was not paved, but covered with shale or gravel. Grandma kept muttering about how Jerry should drive more carefully--it was too bumpy! For some reason Jerry had to stop the car and check something, so Grandma hopped out and got in the driver's seat and began driving. About then I woke up with a chuckle on my lips, remembering her jackrabbit starts and stops and her thinking in the dream that she could drive better than Jerry.

Perhaps these dreams are a little foretaste of heaven, when we can be together enjoying each others' company again.