I’m in Fort Lauderdale, Fla., as I write this. I’m in a hotel by the beach and it’s pretty relaxed. I’m sleeping more deeply than I have in a while. I’m also having some fucked-up dreams. Since I rarely remember my dreams the next morning, I’ve decided to capture this one.
I’m with my father, aunt and younger son in front of the old family business. Everyone’s gathered to go to a wedding or some other special event. Duncan and I aren’t going, so I’m not sure why we’re there.
My father, who can’t walk or sit up much, has the ability to do both in the dream, and to prove it, he stands up on the roof of the car. My aunt, who rarely leaves her condo these days, is there, too. She’s going to the big event, whatever it is.
Everyone leaves, and I take my son home — to the house I grew up in on the Lynnway in Revere. The house is bigger than it was in reality, with exposed beams at the roof.
We enter the kitchen and I freak because the place is a disaster. The rest of the family had had a big breakfast before they left and didn’t clean up after themselves.
We’re still in my old house, but suddenly my church pastor and a bunch of parishioners are there, rehearsing for either a play or special ceremony.
I’m not wearing any pants, so I run from the room to go put something on. Suddenly, I’m in the warehouse of the family business, which is filled with boxes. An interesting detail, because in reality the building is pretty empty now.
I hide behind boxes and put the pants on, as a bunch of kids from church parade by. I feel a hand on my shoulder and turn around. It’s my pastor.
He asks if I want to go to lunch. I say sure. He pauses, then tells me the other parishioners are talking about me. They’ve noted that I’m very quiet and sullen of late, which is unusual. People are worried about me. I admit that I’m not feeling like myself, and then the dream fades out as I wake up.
What’s It All About?
The best I can make of it is this:
- I’m worried about my father and feel guilty that I’m not able to visit him more often.
- I’m worried about my aunt because she’s become a recluse.
- I’m kind of sad about the family business being over, even though I was never in love with it to begin with.
- The mess my younger boy makes around the house is driving me insane.
- Though I’m getting better, I spent the fall and winter in a depressed funk.
As for the lack of pants, all I can think of is that a little bit of reality had traveled with me into the dream, because I was sleeping sans pants.“Dream of Sacrifice” by EddieTheYeti