TheBanyanTree: Dreams

[Monique Colver]

Sometimes I'll wake up at night, as I'm prone to do, and I'll think of Stew,
and inexplicably I'll also, at the exact same time, feel  my mouth curving
into the unmistakable shape of a smile, and I'll fall back asleep
eventually, grinning from ear to ear. It happens now during the day too,
when he crosses my mind, a smile coming to me without me even thinking about
it. It's magical, or would be, if I were prone to thinking of things as
magical, which of course I'm not. I'm the picture of rational thought, the
very embodiment of everything not magical. But it happens anyway. I have no
explanation for it, but an explanation isn't called for, so that's okay.

And then last night there was the dream.

I'm very good with dreams. They're often quite vivid, full of details, and
fun. I have very fun dreams. Sometimes I wake up exhausted, looking forward
to a day of sitting at my desk, since it's such a change from the activity I
go through while I sleep. I rarely talk about my dreams because in real life
they don't make much sense. Or any sense. And who wants to hear about
someone else's dreams? While normally this would not dissuade me from
sharing anyway, dreams are mostly too difficult to translate into English. I
dream in a language that is full of description and nuance, and while it may
be clear in my mind, words fail me. But this time, I'm going to share.

Last night I saw Stew in one of my dreams. I was outside, somewhere by the
water, on a street. It was a good part of town. I'm always in good parts of
towns. And across the street was Stew, in a suit, maybe black, maybe just
dark, with a woman at his side. And he looked great. Healthy. Totally
healthy, physically, mentally, emotionally, and in all ways, in ways he
hadn't been for a very long time when he was alive. He radiated good health
and happiness. I started to cross the street to say hi, and so did he, and
the woman he was with tugged at him to come back. She didn't like me being
there, and didn't appreciate me wanting to say hi. It didn't really matter.
We each crossed the street halfway, the woman trotting after him, and our
hands touched. All was good. We had no need for words, and he went his way,
and I went mine, and we said we'd meet up again later.

Inconsequential on the face of it. Just a dream, part of a larger dream, or
other dreams. Nothing much to write home about, in theory.
But it makes me smile.

M


-- 
Monique Colver