I managed to skip a couple of days (months ago) so I think I want to try and start catching up. I believe the last post in the 30 days Of Sue was day 14 - something about what I wore today. Seriously, that was getting more than a little monotonous. Since I'm not Lady Gaga and don't wear outlandish things like meat dresses, or Cher and wear a fishnet body-suit, my clothes are somewhat ordinary and rather plain, but serviceable - like myself. Who cares if I wore jeans and a tee or a skirt and blouse? And who cares if I wear tennis shoes or high heels (besides my feet, that is.)
Anway, today the post is supposed to tell about my dreams. I've had some doozies. Doozy is a southern term for " Wait'll you hear this one!!" or "You ain't going to believe this!" Truly, some of them have raised a skeptical brow now and then, but as much as I believe in the moon, I believe in my dreams - especially the ones that linger in my mind after I wake up. If it's the first thing I think about before I open my eyes, and if it's strong enough to make me sit up and go " Whoa!" then I consider it more than a mere dream... When there is detail and the events unfold in such a way that you can recount them as clearly as if it were a memory, then those dreams -mean- something.
I think the first one I can recall as being more a premonition than a dream was when I was a teenage girl. Our church was pastored by a man who had a daughter and two sons. Rev. Massengale always took his kids to Tennessee right around Christmas time. Our church didn't believe in Christmas trees, and all the glitter and sparkles that went with it. His mother, however, did, and so they spent Christmas at Grandma's house. This particular Christmas they were going to leave on Saturday and come back the following week. Saturday night I dreamed that we were going to church as usual and when I got out of the car, I heard the organ playing. Melinda, the pastor's daughter always played the organ and it was fairly common to come in and see her up at the front, playing something or other. In my dream I remember hearing the organ and thinking that perhaps they hadn't gone to Tennessee after all. I walked into the church and there sat Melinda, dressed in a purple blouse, a plaid midi-skirt (one that came to the ankles for those of you who don't know what they were) and when I walked in, she got up and came down the aisle to meet me. I asked her why weren't they in Tennessee and she said they had decided to leave after church on Sunday instead because they hadn't been able to get everything ready to leave on Saturday. I woke up Sunday morning, thinking about that, and wondered why the dream seemed so clear - it seemed so real. Well, we dressed, and got to the church and when I got out of the car, I heard the organ. I went inside and Melinda was sitting at the organ playing. When I got closer she got up and she was wearing the clothes I'd dreamed about and when I asked her why they weren't in Tennessee, the reason was just what she'd said in the dream.
In 1984 my dad died of lung cancer. Before I knew he was terminal, when I still had hope that he would survive it, I dreamed one night that I had gone to mama and daddy's house. When I pulled up I saw Willie Carroll's truck outside. Willie had died some ten years earlier on the operating table during heart surgery.
In my dream I went inside and Daddy and Willie were talking about a trip they were going to take. There was a trunk between them and when I found out they were going somewhere I tried to get Daddy to let me pack him a lunch. He told me he wouldn't need anything to eat where he was going... I didn't think too much about that dream then, save that it nagged at me to wonder why I had dreamed about Willie and his old sea green Ford truck.
On the morning that Daddy died, Willie's widow rushed in and grabbed my Mama and said " Helen. Do you know what today is?! It's the same day Willie died, ten years ago." I believe my daddy's best friend came to get him. I think if I had known what day Willie had died, I could have known the day my Daddy would pass away as well. I am thankful, however, that I didn't. Just knowing he was going to go was bad enough... I could only imagine that I would have been counting the minutes and the seconds, dreading that fateful morning and would have missed the precious weeks and hours and months I was able to share with him.
Years later, I dreamed that my husband was cleaning out our car. I noticed that his wedding ring was missing from his finger. When I asked him about it he told me he didn't want to damage it so he'd taken it off.
Weeks later I again dreamed that his wedding ring was missing and again I asked him about it, and he offered another reason that he'd taken it off to shower, and forgot to put it back on.
Probably a month or more later, I dreamed one more time that his ring was gone from his finger... Within a month we were separated and eventually divorced.
Dreams scare me sometimes. Once, for almost a solid week, I dreamed that there were tornadoes in the back yard. That was the year the Hurricane Hugo hit and there is no doubt that tornadoes were all around us in Cross.
My friend, Pat, died in April almost 2 years ago. The morning that she passed away I dreamed that she came into the house and bent down to hug me. I was sleeping on the sofa and I reached up and put my arms around her. She said I love you. I told her I loved her too and would go with her as far as I could go. I told her I would miss her and she said she would miss me too.
I woke up crying. Later that morning I was going to go visit her at Hospice. When I called to let them know I was coming, Buddy, her husband, told me she had -just- passed away and that earlier in the morning, probably about the same time she'd come to "visit" me, she'd stirred in the bed, sat halfway up, looked around the room and then laid back down and was unresponsive from then on until the end.
My friend Nancy, Pat's neice, said she seemed to be looking for someone. I know where Pat was right then, who she was seeing and I will treasure that for the rest of my life.
My family has made me promise that if I dream about them, I will tell them. I've been fortunate in that my dreams about the ones I love who are still living haven't seemed to portend anything serious, sad, or dangerous.
I've been lucky. And so have they, I think...
Anway, today the post is supposed to tell about my dreams. I've had some doozies. Doozy is a southern term for " Wait'll you hear this one!!" or "You ain't going to believe this!" Truly, some of them have raised a skeptical brow now and then, but as much as I believe in the moon, I believe in my dreams - especially the ones that linger in my mind after I wake up. If it's the first thing I think about before I open my eyes, and if it's strong enough to make me sit up and go " Whoa!" then I consider it more than a mere dream... When there is detail and the events unfold in such a way that you can recount them as clearly as if it were a memory, then those dreams -mean- something.
I think the first one I can recall as being more a premonition than a dream was when I was a teenage girl. Our church was pastored by a man who had a daughter and two sons. Rev. Massengale always took his kids to Tennessee right around Christmas time. Our church didn't believe in Christmas trees, and all the glitter and sparkles that went with it. His mother, however, did, and so they spent Christmas at Grandma's house. This particular Christmas they were going to leave on Saturday and come back the following week. Saturday night I dreamed that we were going to church as usual and when I got out of the car, I heard the organ playing. Melinda, the pastor's daughter always played the organ and it was fairly common to come in and see her up at the front, playing something or other. In my dream I remember hearing the organ and thinking that perhaps they hadn't gone to Tennessee after all. I walked into the church and there sat Melinda, dressed in a purple blouse, a plaid midi-skirt (one that came to the ankles for those of you who don't know what they were) and when I walked in, she got up and came down the aisle to meet me. I asked her why weren't they in Tennessee and she said they had decided to leave after church on Sunday instead because they hadn't been able to get everything ready to leave on Saturday. I woke up Sunday morning, thinking about that, and wondered why the dream seemed so clear - it seemed so real. Well, we dressed, and got to the church and when I got out of the car, I heard the organ. I went inside and Melinda was sitting at the organ playing. When I got closer she got up and she was wearing the clothes I'd dreamed about and when I asked her why they weren't in Tennessee, the reason was just what she'd said in the dream.
In 1984 my dad died of lung cancer. Before I knew he was terminal, when I still had hope that he would survive it, I dreamed one night that I had gone to mama and daddy's house. When I pulled up I saw Willie Carroll's truck outside. Willie had died some ten years earlier on the operating table during heart surgery.
In my dream I went inside and Daddy and Willie were talking about a trip they were going to take. There was a trunk between them and when I found out they were going somewhere I tried to get Daddy to let me pack him a lunch. He told me he wouldn't need anything to eat where he was going... I didn't think too much about that dream then, save that it nagged at me to wonder why I had dreamed about Willie and his old sea green Ford truck.
On the morning that Daddy died, Willie's widow rushed in and grabbed my Mama and said " Helen. Do you know what today is?! It's the same day Willie died, ten years ago." I believe my daddy's best friend came to get him. I think if I had known what day Willie had died, I could have known the day my Daddy would pass away as well. I am thankful, however, that I didn't. Just knowing he was going to go was bad enough... I could only imagine that I would have been counting the minutes and the seconds, dreading that fateful morning and would have missed the precious weeks and hours and months I was able to share with him.
Years later, I dreamed that my husband was cleaning out our car. I noticed that his wedding ring was missing from his finger. When I asked him about it he told me he didn't want to damage it so he'd taken it off.
Weeks later I again dreamed that his wedding ring was missing and again I asked him about it, and he offered another reason that he'd taken it off to shower, and forgot to put it back on.
Probably a month or more later, I dreamed one more time that his ring was gone from his finger... Within a month we were separated and eventually divorced.
Dreams scare me sometimes. Once, for almost a solid week, I dreamed that there were tornadoes in the back yard. That was the year the Hurricane Hugo hit and there is no doubt that tornadoes were all around us in Cross.
My friend, Pat, died in April almost 2 years ago. The morning that she passed away I dreamed that she came into the house and bent down to hug me. I was sleeping on the sofa and I reached up and put my arms around her. She said I love you. I told her I loved her too and would go with her as far as I could go. I told her I would miss her and she said she would miss me too.
I woke up crying. Later that morning I was going to go visit her at Hospice. When I called to let them know I was coming, Buddy, her husband, told me she had -just- passed away and that earlier in the morning, probably about the same time she'd come to "visit" me, she'd stirred in the bed, sat halfway up, looked around the room and then laid back down and was unresponsive from then on until the end.
My friend Nancy, Pat's neice, said she seemed to be looking for someone. I know where Pat was right then, who she was seeing and I will treasure that for the rest of my life.
My family has made me promise that if I dream about them, I will tell them. I've been fortunate in that my dreams about the ones I love who are still living haven't seemed to portend anything serious, sad, or dangerous.
I've been lucky. And so have they, I think...
