I don't know about the rest of you, but I enjoy a good dream just as much as the next person. I always have. I remember when I was a child, I had a great dream about my Aunt Elizabeth riding on a merry-go-round. (Sorry, that's all I can remember of the details.) I told my mama about it, and that I woke up before it was over. I wanted to know what happened next. Mama told me that was the end of it, I'd never know, you never had the same dream again. Hah! I proved her wrong, I had the same dream again the next night! Only it ended just like before, so I still haven't found out if I got to ride the merry-go-round.
Speaking of recurring dreams, how many of you have the final-exam dream? It's the end of the semester in college, finals week, and you have just discovered you have a final in a class you never attended! It was too late to withdraw--drop/add week was over a LONG time ago--and now you have to face the music. I've heard that is a very common dream for former college students. Both David and I have that one, usually about the time of finals.
Another recurring dream for teachers is to go to class and find your class has extra students--and no roll to find out who they are! Then there's the class with the elusive schedule--you never know where they are supposed to be at any one time. And the class you didn't know you were teaching, and when you finally locate them, you breathe a sigh of relief that at least there's no blood on the floor! (That was always my reassurance--no blood on the floor, everything must be okay.)
Lately, I've had some good dreams. In a couple, I was teaching again, but things were going right, not like that nightmare that ended my career. I had enough help, I was enjoying the kids, they were learning, they were responding, and I (most important of all) was being respected. Thank you, God, for those dreams.
Last night I had a couple of interesting ones. I always enjoy the ones where my kids are young again. I had fun raising them, and I have fun now being with them in the dreams. Except for that one little booger, who always has different names and was born after Ann. (Ann is my official youngest child.) Of course the fact that last-night's-name Andrew never existed doesn't stop me from trying to be his mama. It's a little difficult at times, since I sometimes can't find him in the house, and when folks ask me when he was born, I'm clueless...
Phase out of the Andrew-dream: This next one woke me up. I was just going into Kroger's in the dream, regular day, probably fall, not too cold, but not hot. One of those days when you can linger outside and chat with folks you know. I met Frances H with another woman and was enjoying the chat, except something was a little off. I knew something wasn't right. Then I realized the woman she was with wasn't Donna, her daughter and usual caretaker. Something was in the back of my mind, but I just couldn't put my dream finger on it. Then another woman joined Frances and her companion, and they got on the bus to go home. Before the second woman got on the bus, she turned to me and said, "By the way, you do know that Donna died, don't you?" Yes. I knew.
That's what woke me up. It was true. Donna did die, yesterday. I am still trying to come to grips with my feelings on this. I'm going to post another entry about Donna, but the time isn't right. I need to grieve.
Dang, dreams. You either enjoy them or you hate them, or they make you cry. Love to all, and God bless.