In the summer of 2010 I had the following dream. It felt significant but I didn’t know what it meant. At the time we were in the process of selling my parents’ house to the son of the neighbors across the road (Keith). My brothers and I were standing in the front yard of my parents’ house. It felt like springtime, and the sky was a little overcast as if it might rain.
“Do you think Keith will let us dig some plants out of the back yard?” I asked. “We’ve been so busy cleaning out the house I haven’t had time to do it. But I want to move some of Mom’s garden to my yard.”
“I doubt it,” my brother John said.
“I doubt he would want them, “I said. “He is probably going to mow back there and then the plants will be all gone.”
The dream changed and we were now in my brothers’ old bedroom. This room was right inside the house from where we were standing in the yard. The atmosphere felt heavy and depressing. John leaned against the closet door. “Boy, I don’t feel very good,” he said.
I decided to interrupt the long dialog I have going on my experiences with my mother to write about a series of events that happened just this past week. It felt like a major milestone for me – instead of these things being entirely an “inner” experience, for the first time they were occuring specifically for the edification of someone else, and I was the intermediary.
Last year some long time friends of ours from one of our musical pursuits was diagnose with lukemia. This couple had suffered a great deal over the year before that due to an accident suffered by the wife – Toni – when she fell off a ladder. Having her husband Bob dealt this blow while they were still struggling to deal with the fallout from Toni’s injuries. She made a pretty remarkable recovery – we all feared she would be confined to a wheelchair. But as anyone who has gone through something like that knows, there are always long term complications to be dealt with.
I think on some level we all felt that Bob would recover because it would be just too unfair otherwise! We heard through a mutual friend that Bob wasn’t doing well a month or so ago – was still in the hospital undergoing a lot of treatments but things seemed to be taking a turn for the worst.
Then this past weekend I had a dream where I saw Bob’s newspaper obituary. It was brief and I almost forgot about it, but something the next morning jogged my memory. I told Bill about it and suggested that he should call Toni because Bob might not be here much longer if the dream meant what I felt it did.