This is a re-post of a dream I had, years ago. I thought it was interesting, but haven’t analyzed it and have no desire to. What made me dream such absurd things? Only my subconscious knows.
A few years ago, I went through a period of recording a few of my dreams in a small notebook. These were actual night-time dreams. Psychoanalysts can decipher dreams but I am not into that. I’m sure you and I and all of us have had dreams that have been interesting; some were scary, some were puzzling, and some were downright funny. This morning, I glanced through that little notebook of recorded dreams and found two I had written down about eight years ago. Remember, please, that dreams don’t usually make sense and mine didn’t. Here’s the way they went:
President Bush asked me to be the lieutenant governor of Arkansas. Being a native Oklahoman and just recently moved to Arkansas, I realized I knew nothing about Arkansas history or politics so Mr. Bush was showing me how to memorize facts quickly. Next, in my dream, I was thinking that I would have to move to Little Rock and leave my family. I realized I didn’t want to do that so I decided not to accept the nomination. That ended my brief excursion into the political realm even before it began.
Another interesting dream occurred several nights after my political foray. I had watched a fascinating television program about the fabulously wealthy Biltmore family and their marvelous mansion in North Carolina. I went to sleep and dreamed about going to visit the Biltmores and having dinner with them. In my dream, it was Christmas dinner. Yes, me, a simple, mom, grandma, retired teacher, writer from the South, going to eat with the Biltmores. Wow! But, there was a problem. I had forgotten to take off my gardening gloves before I ate.
Evidently, some time after I had written the dreams, when Sara was a lot smaller, she had gotten my dream notebook and wrote a message for me. The message? “I love you.” That put everything into proper perspective.
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