More death and resurrection
Death seems to be a popular theme in my dreams. This time I dreamed my friend Sue from Niles had died. I found out through seeing her obituary or something, and was devastated. I hadn’t seen Sue in years, and so I felt like a bad friend, even though I lived so close to where she worked.
I guess in my dream, I’m still living in Niles, too, and working in South Bend, though getting ready to leave. I was sitting on the floor, against some bleachers in what seemed to be a gym. One of my Trib friends wants to know why I look so sad, and I have a hard time telling her why. It seems like in the dream, there was some other reason for me to be sad, but I don’t remember what it was.
I also see the house where Sue was supposed to be living, or rather, where the house used to be. Apparently, the house had been torn up, leaving only a vague imprint on the grass. This made me even sadder.
Meanwhile, there was a memorial website or something where people could put their condolences, and I tried to use it. People have designed some nice, tasteful things within the quilt-like squares. When I go to add my sentiments, it turns into a physical quilt, almost. There are separate squares which will have to be sewn together later. With a few clicks of my mouse, I manage to materialize some different materials to look at and a big, ugly wreathe that I didn’t want to use.
I’m getting frustrated because while I can flounder my way around computers, I don’t know anything about sewing or physical decoration. I also kind of feel that the display is getting a bit maudlin and tacky.
I run into Sue’s mother somewhere and I tell her how sorry I am. I’m already trying to figure out what I can do for the family, and need to send something.
Oddly, Sue’s mom seems to be taking it pretty well. She is grateful for my concern, but she’s fine.
Then I spy Sue hiding somewhere, and I gratefully go over to her. But she doesn’t want me drawing attention to her. She doesn’t seem the worse for the wear, being dead, older than the last time I saw her, but that would happen anyway. Well, of course, it turns out that Sue had been sick, and for some reason, she decided that she wanted to be dead to the world. So she and her mother were going through this elaborate plan to establish her as dead.
I’m very happy to see her, but sorry that I won’t see her any more. I hug her and tell her I miss her, but that’s it. I can’t convince her to stay, and then, she is gone, and dead to the world.
There are other fragments of my dreams, like being at a house that I am supposed to be moving from in Niles. One coworker brings me some pizza and attempts to distract me from packing. Another one comes over to say goodbye, but I’m embarrassed by the state of my house. It is mostly empty now, but there are tons of dead or dying bees on the carpet in the livingroom. I go to sit down, and get stingers in my hands.
Oh, wow! What an achingly sad and frustrating dream, but beautiful to read in its own way. I hate dreams where I feel useless to do anything, where I’m no good at what I’m supposed to do (like sewing. . . I sympathize). And the last image in your dream fragment paragraph is really, really nice and seems to speak to a tension between moving on and wanting still to be comfortable where you were. Please promise me you’ll use the bees/stingers in a story sometime.
The stingers in my hand do have the touch of the surreal that makes it into your writing, Dawn. I should find a way to use that. Part of this dream thing is to encourage myself to write, or glean ideas.
And it’s interesting that my brain is still working on leaving everyone at home, when I’ve left them already. Now I’m just shirking unpacking, so you’d think I’d be having guilt dreams about that, instead.
Maybe it’s because I can’t do anything about it, that my evil mind is working on it. Stop it, evil mind. Go back to your lair.