Dreams

When I was twelve I found a book in my mom's dresser drawer about dreams. It claimed to interpret what dreams meant. I scanned it only to find obvious references: "If you dream you're in an elevator going up, that means your life is going to improve!" and "If you dream you're in an elevator going down, that means bad times will come upon you!" Or my fave: "If you dream your teeth are falling out, that means you feel guilty for gossiping!"

Well, hell. I've always had very vivid dreams - live and in color. In fact, I once dreamt I was Peter Brady and I was having sex with Jan (I know, that's totally f*cked up but DAMN men have it better than us women!)

I usually remember my dreams for a day or so, but sometimes they're brought back to me weeks or months later in a snippet of life that reminds me of it.

But there's one dream I will remember until the day I die: it occurred after I graduated from college with my BS. I was working a shit job at a bank, trying to find a "real" job. I couldn't make my rent and was so stressed - I mean Jesus, I owed so much on college tuition just to spend my life cashing checks???

And then I had The Dream. I was in my dad's swimming pool, and a tornado was coming. I ducked down into the pool and watched as the tornado passed overhead. I felt safe in the pool. Watching it pass was comforting. I swam to the deep end of the pool where my dad, who died when I was twelve, was sitting by the ladder. I climbed up the ladder and ruffled his hair. And I knew that hair. It was my son's.

I awoke sobbing, knowing my dad will never meet his doppelganger. I remembered the dream book - it said tornadoes meant turmoil. Perhaps this meant the turmoil is passing? Several days later I got The Call - the one with the big company that offered a big job. I interviewed, was offered the job, and was finally free of the turmoil.

However, five years later the turmoil was back. The Job kicked me and 20,000 other people to the curb. I couldn't find a job... a life. I was starting to think I would shrivel up and die unemployed. But I've dreamed the dream again.

I was in my mom's hometown, in a stadium, taking cover from a tornado. But this time, I had my son in my arms. We were wet from the rain, and he was crying. I reassured him it would be okay. I kissed my baby on the head and watched as the tornado passed overhead.

I woke and realized the significance of that dream. I sobbed, hoping and praying that the same good fortune would happen to me as before.

And I think it has. I've realized now I need to let go. Let go of my cute little house that is perfect for us because it alienated me from good neighbors and close kids. The constant repairs, leaky roof and fallen gutters left me frustrated. The lack of adult conversation turned myself inward. It was an independent move I will never regret but it ended up not being for the better. And I'm okay with that...because the storm has now passed.

I'm putting my home on the market and looking forward to my future.