What does it all mean?

Every thing around me is clean and white. Even the air around me seem to have have a sparkle to it. It was a bright comfortable day. Not too cold and not too warm. It seemed like paradise.

As John and I enter into the community in search of the Leader I encounter a women who is holding a baby. I asked her if she was the one I was looking for. She looked at me like she didn’t know how to answer the question. She was very indecisive. I got frustrated with her and was like well are you or aren’t you? As I walked away I rolled my eyes at her. Although, I knew the person I was looking for was male.

We walked away and sat on a wall near the pool. As I sat there, I knew my appearance was not as clean and white as my surroundings. I seemed dirty like the red dirt from Sedona. A man and women approached me and said they liked the puka shells I was wearing. I gave them a shaka and said Aloha! Then I thought, “I don’t wear puka shells, John does”.

We got up and walked around the pool and there were people all around, some were in the pool. As I stood at the end of the pool with John on my left, there was a man to my right that was wearing a grey suit. He jumped into the pool like a child on the first day of summer. I got the impression that the people in this community didn’t care about material things they cared more about feeling joy and being part of this family.

I looked toward the left corner of the pool and I saw the man I was looking for. He was in a bathing suit laughing and enjoying himself. I walked to where he was as he was getting out of the pool.

John and I followed him into his office. The office was more long than wide and to enter, you had to walk through this beautiful arch. It was all open and made of stone. There was a desk on one side and across from the desk was a platform with a sofa. John and I sat on the sofa. Next to his desk was another sofa and my parents were sitting there. My Mom on the right closest to the desk and my Dad sat next to her. She had this sheer red ribbon in her hand and it looked like she was making a bow.

The Leader asked us a question. He asked, “How many arms should we have?”

My Dad said he was going to ask the same question. John sat there like he didn’t know how to answer. My Mom said that having two arms was sufficient because she was able to make dresses to sell and that was her purpose for being here.

Somehow the sofa we were sitting on tipped backwards and we fell to the floor. I landed more on my feet and John flipped on his back and his feet went over his head and hit the wall. I was laughing and I woke up laughing.

I remembered being in this place before in a dream. I remember kneeling and praying. I knew the first time I had this dream that if I left I would change and not be able to come back. As I had the dream again I felt like I didn’t belong there anymore.

What does it all mean?

Is it a dream or is it real?

Marie Ange Bertha Jacques 1913-1985
Marie Ange Bertha Jacques 1913-1985

Have you ever had a dream that felt so real? Maybe you dreamt about a loved one or a pet who had passed and when you woke up it felt more like a memory.

I have had several dreams like this.

My mémère (French for Grandmother) Jacques was everything to me. She was a tall women with brown permed hair. Her skin was like porcelain. Mémère had thick bottle-like glasses because she had cataracts. And she only wore dresses – or at least that’s what I remember. She had the warmest hugs, the sweetest French accent, and a most infectious giggle.

When speaking with a French Canadian who’s second language is English, they don’t say things the way we are used to hearing them. Mémère would pronounce “th”, as in thumb or thankful, more like a “t”. Thumb was more like tumb and thankful like tankful. I always loved that about her. She always carried Canadian mints – the peppermint and spearmint flavors. Her spearmint mints were pink so we called them Pepto Bismol mints.

Whenever she would call the house to talk to my mom, I would get so excited that I practically ripped the phone out of her hand. I was always excited to talk to mémère. I remember her coming out to dinner with our family and having her over the house during special occasions.

My most favorite memories were when she watched my younger brother and me at her house.

My uncles hunted and once killed a fox and had it stuffed and mounted. Whenever I would visit my mémère, I would sit in the small living room in the back of the house and hug the fox. When we weren’t watching TV we would sit at the kitchen table and play cards together. Mémère Jacques was so patient when we played cards. She’d often gave us a bowl of ice-cream. I loved her so very much. I miss her every day.

I remember the day she had passed. She had been very sick. I remember my sister staying with her to take care of her during her final days. On December 9, 1985, I was sitting in my 8th grade class doing my work. I looked up at the clock and the time read 3:00 p.m. I knew she had passed away. The story I was told is she had been in a coma for a while and my mother and the nurse were there when she had finally opened her eyes. The nurse told her to close her eyes and rest and then she passed.

It was a sad time but I know I didn’t fully understand it all. At that age I know I didn’t process the loss like an adult could. I remember not being sad right away. It was more like a happy feeling for her. I thought there was something wrong with me because I saw my family members crying from the loss.

It had been many years after her passing that I had this dream. I remember being in a kitchen. It was like a black and white scene that had a soft white haze. We were there along with my father’s mother who had passed three years earlier. They were teaching me how to boil potatoes. There were these huge pots on the stove, restaurant size, with boiling water. We were pealing potatoes to put in the pot. I remember thinking to myself, “is this real?” It felt real. The time that I spent with them they didn’t speak. They both just tended to their work.

After waking up from the dream I wanted to go back to sleep so I could be with them longer. I felt sad because I missed them so. I think it was her way of letting me know she is still with me even though she is no longer a part of the physical world.

What are your thoughts?

The dream of mist and dungeons

Yesterday I made my first dream post. I was not expecting people to respond with similar experiences. I was pleasantly surprised to know that there are other folks out there who may not have had the same dreams but a similar theme. It just reinforces the notion we are not alone out there. If you open yourself up you will find someone who can be empathetic to your situation.

Let see how many of you beautiful souls can relate to this dream.

This dream I had from high school and well after. It always started differently. A bit of background before I get into the dream itself. I went to a Catholic High School. On the third floor there was a classroom designated as a chapel. We would Mass in there but it was a classroom like all the rest.

I would be outside of my school and it would be in the middle of the night. The streets were quiet and I was there alone. I would enter the school through the front doors on Merrimack St.

I would climb the many stairs to the third floor. I would enter into the classroom we used for a chapel. It looked normal except for the white snowy mist that lingered on the ceiling.

There was a podium and there were words written on the front that were glowing a golden/orange color. There was a priest behind the podium yelling at me to read the words.

Before I could the mist  would quickly bust through the wall to the next classroom and disappear. (The next room used to be my homeroom part of my high school years. It was also where the biology teacher was).

As I entered into the room it looked like an old dungeon. With stone walls and there was an electric chair, stretching table and chains with handcuffs on the wall. When I looked ahead of me there was this wooden structure made of 2x4s. They were built into a wall of cubes. Beside this structure was a dark narrow hallway.

As I started to chase this mist through the wooden structure my parents would be walking down the dark narrow hallway calling my name. Then I would wake up.

There was only one time that I recall having this dream where I read the words on the podium. When I did so the mist disappeared.

May your dreams bring you peace and comfort and are always for your highest good.

Much Love and Hugs!