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!

Earliest Dream I Remember

When I was little, not sure how old I was, I used to have this recurring dream.

I would be in this office building that had many rooms. There were filing cabinets lining all the walls. The walls were a light tan off white color lit by harsh florescent lighting. There was this evil witch flying around the office building looking for me.

She wore all black with pointed shoes. Her nose was long and crooked and she had skeleton like fingers. Her cackle was ominous and would send shivers down my spine.

I remember being very afraid and hiding in one of the many rooms crouching down so the evil witch couldn’t find me. I was trying to be so small so she couldn’t see me as she flew by and the fear of her wanting to kill me was overwhelming. Most of the time I would just wake up before she could find me. But there was one dream where she did find me and stormed into the room where I was hiding and took a hold of me.

Then I woke up, thank God!