A Dream

May 3, 2010

As is our morning ritual, I get dressed while listening to the radio alarm playing Morning Edition. It’s set for 7:30, over an hour after I get up, and it slowly wakes my husband. So, I usually stand at the door to our bedroom after getting dressed and say “good-bye” to a pillow over a face.

The other morning the pillow came off and the face said “I dreamt I died.”

“How was it?”

“It was okay. It was fine, in fact. I got to hang around for a few days with the family, waiting for the next thing.”

“That’s great!”  

My husband has always wrestled with the notion of mortality. He’s resisted the idea that we leave things undone, that perhaps we won’t be remembered for long. He’s wanted to make his indelible mark in the fabric of human history, to be a remembered name in the fields of art or design.

Somehow, long ago, I came to peace that my mark is now, and that the legacy I leave is in the human investments I’ve made; but my husband had struggled with such notions until that morning. That morning he saw himself after death in the circle of his family, and it was pretty cool. I don’t know how he got to that place in his subconscious mind, but it was beautiful to hear. 

A nice thing… if we question and struggle but are open to whatever answer comes, our subconscious can do the work without us knowing.

3 Responses to “A Dream”

  1. Quite nice ms. beep. I’m not sure of what mark I will leave, but it will probably reside within how the kids turn out and how happy they will be with themselves. The jury’s out on when that will be determined, but may never be, extending into their own children ad infinitum.

    I too have a morning NPR ritual…in most cases it eases me into the day.

  2. kenhoney said

    It’s hard to imagine that everything we do will one day be gone. But it’s inevitable. In the big, big, big picture, there’s no more Shakespeare or Hitler or anyone. I guess that gives me the most solace: one day, none of it matters.

  3. Laura said

    That’s such a nice thought. I’m glad he got to that mental place. I’m not sure either of us are really there yet. I just resolutely don’t think about it, and Justin… well, I just don’t know.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: