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But seriously, I do... kinda.
Last night in my dreams, I was making the journey back home to attend my grandmother's funeral. I know it was a dream simply because a fifteen-hour drive took me about six, and even though the purpose of the trip was to attend her funeral, my grandma was still very much alive.
You gotta love dreams.
I saw my aunts sitting around the table and hugged every one of their necks. I talked with my grandma about recipes while we sat on her front porch swing. I visited with my dad as we all made our way to the graveside service and stood among the familiar stones for family and friends. We were obviously there for someone, but I have no idea who... maybe it was just a good excuse to go home.
I woke up thinking about our little white house that we left and wondered how our lives might be different if we had never moved. Would our oldest still live three hours away from us or just down the road? What would things be like for our middle and youngest? Would the husband still be in law enforcement? Would I still be teaching in the same classroom in the same school where I painted desks and swept endless drywall dust and wrote scriptures that went into the foundation?
What ifs can be a dangerous thing.
Granted, I also dreamed last night that I was in the production of Annie. Daddy Warbucks had just bought out the theater for some movie and we were happily passing around the popcorn and Starbucks (seriously). For that reason alone, I can't get too hung up about the details of my midnight wanderings and wonder why.
I look at dreams as a gift. I get to see people who have went on and visit places I have long since left. I get to take a break from reality and for about seven or eight hours, time really has no meaning and distance has no length. There is nothing to stop me from being where I really want to be. Let's face it... time might march on, but the heart knows what was left behind. Thank goodness the Lord knows what lies ahead.
I will leave the whys up to Him.
Sweet dreams.
*In case you're curious, the photo above was taken by yours truly in Savannah, Georgia.
Beautiful, isn't it?
1 comment:
An interesting post - and what a fascinating dream! Dreams are indeed a precious way of visiting those who are now gone.
My mother died in 2009 and I dream about her almost every night - - no exaggeration. Curiously, in every dream, I tell her about what's going on in my life and she simply listens. She was a patient listener in life, and my greatest confidant.
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