Contemplation on speaking with the dead in dreams

Hello again.


I’m giving this writing thing another go.  Perhaps not just for me, or the anonymous internet audience at large, but for whoever follows behind me.  I wonder how this will be archived if I’m no longer around.  I hope to have kids, and leave them with the process of my thoughts.  I didn’t get that with my father.

He passed away 2 months and a day ago.  Rhabadomyosarcoma.  If you’re googling this now, you’ll note how it primarily mentions this is a childhood disease.  On top of that, I recall at least a couple of articles mentioning how rare it is…something along the lines of 250 or less cases a year.  My father was 74.  It took him out in a little over a month.  That’s how rare this was.  For this, among several other reasons that I’m not going into right now, makes me think that there has to be something more to this existence.  I’m an agnostic guy who watches science videos for fun.

I had a discussion with my Aunt the other day that has shaken up my mind a bit.  In an almost matter-of-fact way she mentioned having talked to my mom the other day.  It took me a minute to actually register what she had said.  She went on to describe the dream.  She has dreams where she talks to her brothers and sister periodically, but this one was different in that it happened twice in a row.  I don’t remember the details of what was said quite as much now, but I recall hearing the descriptions of my mom’s mannerisms and attitude, and sure enough they felt on target.  Oh right, I should mention my mother has been gone since I was 18.  Also cancer, but with a side of complications from a stroke.

I’ve seen my mother in dreams before, but I don’t recall ever having discussions.  I did see my father and grandmother maybe a month ago in a dream as well.  I remember being in the backyard in the house I grew up in.  I remember seeing red objects being packed into a version of the shed that was much larger than I remember.  I was helping with picking up the yard (maybe a link to when I was a kid helping clean up the debris in our yard after hurricane Andrew in ’92?).  I can remember my father and grandmother discussing something (they were buried in the same plot)…I just can’t remember what was said.  I remember my grandmother grabbing my shoulder for a minute…and then I woke up.

Was there a point to all of this?  I’m not sure.  I just know I miss my father.





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