Your First Wife

I dreamt that I read your obituary
while sitting in my father's recliner
in the house I grew up in.

You were celebrated in bold face type,
you would be missed.
And they spoke of your first wife,
from whom you had been separated
"it was amicable" they said.

You had been living the life you were "supposed to live"
when you passed,
(but they gave our marriage the first long paragraph)
They quoted a statement you had made
regarding our marriage:
"It was good to be known"

I put down the paper and wept
having only just learned you were gone,
and that we were no longer married.
I buttoned my grey wool coat to the top
opened the rickety screen door of my father's house
to go sit under the Hawthorn tree

"It was good to be known"

Like a cup to catch my tears
it was oddly useful and practical
but not enough to hold my sorrow

Then your voice cut through the dream
like groggy thunder
muttering at the cat
"Bosco, stop"
I squirted him with the bottle
to keep him from scratching at the raindrops
sliding down the windowpane
and touched your sleeping shoulder.

It is good to be known.

Laughing In His Sleep

This morning around 4:00, I heard what I thought was crying coming from JH's room. I went to check, and he was having a very funny dream, because he was laughing hysterically. He was sound asleep, until he heard ME laughing, because it was the funniest thing I'd ever seen. When I asked him what he was dreaming about he said he was dreaming about S. trying to get him, but a door kept shutting on his nose and making a honking noise. He could barely tell me, because it made him laugh so hard.

I love this kid.

A New Day...

....and a full nights sleep. Which means good things, mostly. The good news: Joe-Henry woke up hungry, asking for a donut yesterday at around 4:00. I gave him some soup, which he kept down, and then some toast (with a tiny bit of jam....I know - risking it!), and he started to sound a little bit like his old self. No more moaning, he didn't sound weak, and in fact I could tell he was hungry because he was really obstinate. He slept all night, I did too (more on that in a minute) and wants to go to school today.

Good news, yes? I will send him to school, I will go to work, and of course, the bad news is I will spend the whole day worrying about him. Never mind that I know he'll be okay. I'm still going to worry.

I'm worrying also about my husband, who is suffering a really low period now. I can't say more than that - it's his story, not mine, but suffice to say that he could use some good thoughts. After the kidney infection and lack of sleep this week, there wasn't a lot of me left to offer any support to him.

It did feel good to get a full night's sleep, even though I wound up in the kid's bed again (I just fell asleep there and didn't move the rest of the night) and my back is killing me today. I'm hoping it's just from sleeping in his bed, and not the kidney infection rearing it's ugly head.

But sleeping a full night left me to dream, and I have to share a bit of the dialogue that I woke up with. I worked as some kind of numbers cruncher for a large company, but I had my hand full of tiny kid's books and stuffed peechee folders. Tom Hanks was my boss, and had given us a pep talk and a middle school friend that I haven't thought of in years was a co-worker. I was trying to organize my work, and put it in piles and I said "it feels so good to finally get that organized!" My friend lamented that she didn't know, exactly, what it was we did. It was like a slap in the face, a huge existential crisis in my dream. What DID I do? Then she repeated what Tom Hanks said to us, and it was his voice coming out of her mouth. "I understand that God's Tit is funny, but how does it pertain to what we do?"

Then my alarm went off. I hope you have as much fun trying to figure it out as I'm sure I will.

A Very Lutheran Dream

I meet George Clooney at a party - he is very sweet and kind, and is interested in everything I say.

BEEEEEP

I hit the snooze button.

George seeks me out at the party, he's seen me in a play, and thought I was so good. It's a great, witty conversation, but I can tell we're going to be great friends, nothing more. Still, this makes me very, very happy.

BEEEEEP

I hit the snooze again.


Everyone at the party gets on a train, including George. I wonder how we're going to get home, but I'm enjoying my conversation with George. Then I tell him about my husband. I really want to introduce them - I think they'd be great friends too.

The alarm doesn't even have to go off. I get up, and laugh at myself.

dreamland

Last night I had a dream that Nancy Pelosi asked me for dating advice.
Apparently men are threatened by Madam Speaker.
But she's just another "gal", so down to earth.
She wanted to hang out with me and go bike riding.
She was really funny. She made me laugh out loud.
I don't remember what she said that was so funny. I wish I could.
In my dream, I could tell we were going to be such good friends.

Then Joe-Henry woke me up because he had to go to the bathroom.

This morning I had a dream that I was an astronaut, with a bunch of other astronauts.
When we landed back on earth, they let us pick out dresses to wear to the prom.
Mine was grey and looked like it was from the fifties.
But the slip that went under it, even though it was also grey, was really pretty and sparkly and frilly.
When we got home, I found out Charley was breaking up with me and I didn't have a prom date.
I didn't care about the prom, I don't look good in grey anyway.
But I was devastated he was breaking up with me.
He said it was because he had a thing for Norah Jones.
In my dream, I thought, "Doesn't he know that I'm an astronaut?"

I woke up earlier than usual, so that I could wake up enough before he does, so that I don't punish him for being such an ass in my dream.

the stuff dreams are made of?

Is it Lexapro and Chinese Chicken Salad? I don't know.....maybe the lexapro is working it's magic during the day, but it's like falling asleep with a Fellini movie playing. My dreams have been wierder and wierder. I wake up either tired from all the activity, or just plain perplexed.
I've never been one to place a lot of literal meaning to my dreams, but I do think it's where our brains get to try to work things out for us without us getting in the way. But if that's so, what do you make of these dreams?

Dream One: Our anniversary is approaching, so I've decided to get Charley what he's always wanted. I've pierced my INNER THIGHS. It hurts like a mofo, but if it makes him happy...
Huh?
When I woke up from that one, I had to check to see if my thighs were okay.

Dream Two: Charley's Aunt Fran, who in real life is the nicest person in the world, completely approachable, warm, friendly and incredibly crafty, has decided to become a televangelist. I see her on tv and she's saying "The SIN is in inSINuation!" The only thing that this dream has in common with my waking life is that in my dream I am just as stumped by the whole situation.

Dream Three: Last night, I dreamt that we got pregnant. I wasn't excited at first, but then I was. I was with my friends Anne and Anita because Charley was out of town for a while. A&A just had another baby, a beautiful boy, but in the dream, Anne was still pregnant. I reached down and could feel the head of my baby - it was tiny, slightly larger than a golf ball. When I looked down at my belly, I could see its face clearly, pressing up against my belly, like a mask. It was waving at the outside world. I got so excited, and couldn't wait to tell Charley. Then the baby slipped out of my side, like my belly had a kangaroo pouch, only on the side. I tried to get the baby back inside me, but as it lay in my hands, it turned into tiny bones and blew away. My friends wanted to see if there was still a heartbeat, so they held a stethascope up to HER belly for me to listen, then mine, and said, not unkindly, "see the difference?" When Charley got there, I tearfully told him the sad news, and he asked me when dinner would be ready. I was furious, and moved around the house trying to find what it was he wanted me to make (scalloped potatoes), our house had turned into a cross between a board game and a pinball machine, and I got lost. So I told him to fix them himself. He was perplexed.

This one is LOADED, isn't it?! Let me just say, right up front, my husband would never ask for scalloped potatoes.

Alright, all you dream analysts out there... help me out. Or just amuse yourselves.