....... is like a letter unopened.
There was a period in my life, when our children were young, when I dreamed often and remembered my dreams in vivid detail. I would muse about what these strange dreams, filled with imagery and symbolism, could possibly mean. Caught up in the activity of raising a young family, the dreams and their possible meanings eventually became a vague and distant memory.
And so the days, weeks and years went by until all time stopped. That was the day of the phone call all parents dread, the call that tells them their child has died. Suddenly everything became one: reality and unreality, day and night, conscious and subconscious. All was bundled in intolerable pain and a fierce struggle to survive.
From within the troubled sleep of a now grieving parent, dreams once again emerged, more detailed a vivid than ever before. Some were quite confusing, but for many the message was clear. These dreams arrived like letters in the mail, letters to be opened and read, thought about, interpreted and understood.
Some dreams brought home the reality of losing Gabe, at a time when my heart and soul struggled to deny the reality of his death. Others brought messages from a greater source of understanding. And some dreams gave me the chance to spend precious moments with him.
I decided early on to keep a dream journal and interpret these dreams in ways that could help me heal. Hopefully I could take threads of meaning from these dreams and weave a fabric of hope and healing. I hope you can, too. Welcome to "Healing Dreams."
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2 comments:
This is a fascinating topic. I kept journals and tapes for two years after our family experienced a tragedy years ago. I have not been able to recall my dreams in such detail again. I wonder why?
Some of the dreams I had were so real it seemed as if I was actually in the dream and interacting with the people.
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