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| yesterday morning at the beach--which has nothing to do with this post |
Dream:
Dan and I were lying in a car with the seats reclined, kissing and talking. He was dead, but had returned. I understood this 100%, but he seemed to vacillate between acceptance and denial. We were remembering a previous conversation we'd had about what his name might be if he returned to this world in a different body. "Julian," I said. "You'd be called Julian."
"No," he said. "There was another name, something unusual. You told it to me because you heard it in a dream, but I forgot."
"You're right," I said. We made sounds trying to get the name to come out of our mouths. "I told you the name not long before you were gone," I said, not wanting to say the word dead. He looked sad then and unsure of himself, as if he didn't want to admit that he was dead. I wanted to explain to him that it didn't matter if he was dead because he was right there, kissing me, but the name began to take shape inside my mouth. "B-B-Br...," I said.
"Right," he said. "Something European." And we made sounds together until the name Bruges tumbled out of our mouths. "My name will be Bruges," he said. Our car was parked, not in a parking lot, but almost in front of the doorway of a supermarket. We were waiting for it to open so we could get groceries, and just at the moment of remembering, a bag boy in an apron came out and talked to us. It spoiled the moment, but while he said whatever he said, Dan and I muttered his new name so we wouldn't forget.
I moved the car, still not to a proper parking spot, but up against the side of the building so we could kiss and talk some more.
When I woke the name Bruges was on my lips. What kind of a name is that, I wondered. Am I supposed to go to Belgium? Did I just have a dream wherein I remembered a dream--a dream that was just a dream dream and not a dream I actually had? Did I just have a dream about a person who's dead and in the dream was also dead, but was there kissing me and talking to me?
I need coffee.
5 comments:
I often dream of my own beloved dead and in the dreams, as in yours, they are dead, yes, but back for awhile. These dreams in my case do not make me happy because I know that they are going to have to go through it all again and I hate that for them. They already did the hard, horrible work of illness and then death.
Bruges....
What can that possibly mean?
I am glad you got to kiss.
That's just wild. Your dream. Life is but a dream kind of dream. Bruges is so very beautiful -- I visited it once when I was twenty-one years old, and what I remember is that someone told me it was spared the bombs of both world wars and remained intact. It seemed that: intact. Medieval but so beautiful. Like a dream. These are my thoughts, provoked by you, Dan and the dream.
You are dreaming him back for stolen kisses and hugs and he came because he wishes for more time with you. Maybe Bruges is your joint password. Hard to leave a dream like that, non? Sending hugs. x0 N2
The dream was so detailed no doubt the meaning will become clear. In some realm you were together last night.
Dreams like this are amazing. You'll keep it close and eventually, I trust, it's going to make sense. My father came to me in a dream after he died and told me something pretty important. Dreams are so much more than we're taught. Dreams and waking life, all of a piece.
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