Do You Remember Them?
The tall, black wrought iron fence was new but the small cottage was right
there where it's always been, three doors from the corner. The house was wider
than I remembered and the small porch was now a southern-style wraparound
veranda. Red and pink azaleas flanking the steps were in bloom as they
had been at this time of year for decades.
Dad stood on the top step in learning pose, head looking slightly down as he intently studied what appeared to be an iPad. He wore his signature khaki pants, plaid short sleeve sport shirt and thick-soled working man shoes. He seemed to be in his early 60s.
With the blink of an eye, Mom appeared in the foreground of my view, slightly to the left, partially blocking my view of Dad. It was a 50-year-old version of Mom. She smiled and said something unintelligible about Dad and looked as surprised as I was to see him on the porch. Her mouth and eyes moved in her signature storytelling manner but I heard no sound.
Moments later my eyes popped open, hours later I remembered the scene clearly and today, several days later, I described it to you in great detail.
Do you remember your dreams when you wake up? I rarely do. I often hope to remember a dream as vivid as that one. Mostly what I remember is what time it was when I woke up from a dream and hours later I only remember that I had a dream.
Do you think your dreams mean anything? I don't. But for days now I've been wondering why that one lingers so clearly.
In typical fashion, many pieces of that dream don't exist together in real life. The house in my dream is the one where I grew up but it's much smaller than in the dream. Mom was six years older than Dad in real life, not the other way around as in the dream, and both died years ago, a few years on either side of 90. There is no fence in front of the house and Hurricane Katrina killed off the azaleas almost twelve years ago. My sister lives in that house now and last time I saw it, in November, there were no new azaleas.
So why was I dreaming about my parents, especially younger versions of them? Mom's birthday was a few weeks ago, so maybe she was on my mind because of that. I don't know.
Why was my Dad standing on the steps looking at a digital device not even imagined in his lifetime. Why did Mom seem surprised to see him and appear surprised to be in my dream? Where did that fence come from?
The most significant unanswered question about that dream is this: why do I remember it so vividly, days later, when I rarely remember a dream minutes after waking up?
Something tells me these thoughts and questions will continue spinning in my head for awhile.
Dad stood on the top step in learning pose, head looking slightly down as he intently studied what appeared to be an iPad. He wore his signature khaki pants, plaid short sleeve sport shirt and thick-soled working man shoes. He seemed to be in his early 60s.
With the blink of an eye, Mom appeared in the foreground of my view, slightly to the left, partially blocking my view of Dad. It was a 50-year-old version of Mom. She smiled and said something unintelligible about Dad and looked as surprised as I was to see him on the porch. Her mouth and eyes moved in her signature storytelling manner but I heard no sound.
Moments later my eyes popped open, hours later I remembered the scene clearly and today, several days later, I described it to you in great detail.
Do you remember your dreams when you wake up? I rarely do. I often hope to remember a dream as vivid as that one. Mostly what I remember is what time it was when I woke up from a dream and hours later I only remember that I had a dream.
Do you think your dreams mean anything? I don't. But for days now I've been wondering why that one lingers so clearly.
In typical fashion, many pieces of that dream don't exist together in real life. The house in my dream is the one where I grew up but it's much smaller than in the dream. Mom was six years older than Dad in real life, not the other way around as in the dream, and both died years ago, a few years on either side of 90. There is no fence in front of the house and Hurricane Katrina killed off the azaleas almost twelve years ago. My sister lives in that house now and last time I saw it, in November, there were no new azaleas.
So why was I dreaming about my parents, especially younger versions of them? Mom's birthday was a few weeks ago, so maybe she was on my mind because of that. I don't know.
Why was my Dad standing on the steps looking at a digital device not even imagined in his lifetime. Why did Mom seem surprised to see him and appear surprised to be in my dream? Where did that fence come from?
The most significant unanswered question about that dream is this: why do I remember it so vividly, days later, when I rarely remember a dream minutes after waking up?
Something tells me these thoughts and questions will continue spinning in my head for awhile.
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