In an earlier post, I described how different my dreams are about Paul from those about my brother. And I rarely ever dream about my father, who died a few years after him. This morning, probably in a milisecond between snooze alarms, I had a dream about all three.
I experience waves of grief and loss that move at the frequency a wave of molasses might. I’m deep in one right now, and haven’t quite come to the surface. I’m learning to let go and trust that I’ll come up on the other side, hopefully with no more than a little water up my nose and some salt burning my eyes.
This dream was a gift, a really sweet moment in time. As is the way with dreams, I don’t remember context or how one person morphed into another, but I do know I climbed into the back of my brother’s 1986 Saab 900 SPG with a young version of my dad in the passenger seat and my brother driving, and suddenly Paul was next to me. Andrew drove us fast through an empty parking garage, and I delighted in how beautifully that car could take a corner. Driving a fun car is another love I have lost over the years, but at least I can remedy that someday.
How About Now? 
I really enjoy reading your posts. Thank you for sharing your reflections and experiences 🤍
LikeLike
As, I was reading this it reminded me of the time Paul drove through Mr. Eagers corn field/patch in the blue bomber (okay, not really drove through. He got about two feet and then got stuck).
LikeLike
Melissa, it’s good to hear from you again. I think of you often. This seems like a very powerful dream! Thank you for sharing it. My love.
Sent from my iPhone
>
LikeLike
Dreams are so very wonderful. I swear my father in law had very personally visited me in dreams. And like you – other, my own mom and dad do not come in my dreams – or maybe I just am so deep at those times that I don’t recall. I hope you enjoyed the beauty of that drive. Xxoo
LikeLike