The last few nights (or days) have been a series of dreams. As I dream there is a story thread through each one, but upon waking the thread is lost. Sometimes it's lost, found, and lost again.
Yet another dream of Rex being still alive and the overwhelming concern to inform Social Security that he isn't really dead after all. He is reluctant to contact them for fear that they will make him pay everything back.
Since they haven't paid anything but the death benefit, this makes no sense in the waking world.
As in the other Still Alive dreams, Rex is sitting in/on a balcony/patio overlooking a verdant hillside. All of these dreams have featured this vista.
I am looking at Rex and realizing (?) at first that he may have had a stroke at some point. The corner of his eye droops and the corner of his mouth on the same side is twisted. I start doing some research, comparing pictures, and figure out that what I am seeing as signs of a stroke could also be indications that he is indeed a zombie, or becoming one.
This time -- this dream -- I am curious enough to go to the graveyard and see if the grave has been disturbed, and if so, to raise hell with the caretakers who never informed me of the problem. When I get there, the cemetery and plot are green and serene, as if nothing had ever happened. There's a smaller block on one of the headstone blocks, which I think is Rex's stone set on my daughter's stone, but when I look at the names they are not theirs. The names belong to ancient ancestors (Dillon, for one. Also spelled Dylan)
That, I realize, is because I am looking at the wrong graveyard. I am at the West Union cemetary instead of the Winchester one. (Rex is buried at Tate Township in Bethel.) But it's very interesting that I have been drawn to a family plot that looks so much like the family plot I expected, even to the location of the bushes, and I wander around a bit finding other (probable) ancestors.
Also, at some point, I kick the stone that isn't Rex's off the stone that isn't my daughter's and it just crumbles into a pile of gray and white pebbles and dust.
I go "home" to ask Rex about it, the whole zombie/stroke/ is he dead or not.
I am in Williamsburg, in the dark, in the rain, trying to get home. I know the streets of Williamsburg almost as well as Bethel, but in the dream, these streets were all somehow wrong. They kept ending in dead ends, alleys, or hallways with steps. I kept turning around so I wouldn't have to drive the narrow stairways. Some went up; some go down. But steps in streets are just weird, and when the streets turn into hallways and none of them go where they are supposed to and I am getting lost when I should definitely know where I am, I become totally confused.
But I keep trying to find my way out or back.
Was driving someone (David R?)from Williamsburg to Bethel, and was taking the back roads. I told him I really like Twin Bridges Roads, and that taking Twin Bridges--New Haven Road would get us there without going through town. (To the best of my knowledge, there is no such road.)There was a parallel road once we got to the crossroads, and some numbers and a movie were tangled up in this part of the dream.
One of the twin bridges was a covered bridge, and the other one wasn't there.
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The landlords of the Winchester house are going to let me and Rex move back in. Only the house is not the one that was there. It is the big one that I have dreamed of before, with an attached but separate suite on the ground floor (reminiscent of my first apartment that was a side of a house) and a vast upstairs that could be made into separate suites for the girls and their families. Except it was only Tammy and her family. There were even units that could house some of their rescues without letting them into the main house.
Anyway, Rex negotiated ferociously with Nancy and Gene to get us back into the house, and he succeeded.
Then he was gone, and I was moving in with my mom, only I was moving into the little bathroom suite off to the side. I was going to make my bookshelves into a wall (something I would do here at the trailer if it were up to me to separate living room and dining room) but the closet nook takes up all the space where I want to make the wall.
Tammy and the kids are going to move into the upstairs and while we were discussing remodeling -- we knew we should be able to put a kitchen in because there is already plumbing for the bathroom up there -- we discovered that there was already an existing kitchen cubicle in the attic that can be expanded.
Tam and I were unsure if David would be moving into the upstairs apartment with her and the kids, but he could of course. With just himself.
But we also don't want to set a bad example of being cruel and uncaring to people who we actually CAN help -- an opportunity that is rare in our lives, and precious therefore -- and we want to teach the kids compassion and compassionate actions. Then we discover the garage and tool shed and such, all adaptable for helping those who need help. It will also keep them nearby if we should need their help like for babysitting.
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Something about loaves of bread. A short loaf and a long loaf of sandwich bread, to be used for making all sorts if sandwiches. (I blame that on a Facebook meme with sliced bread as pb&j, hot dog bun and hamburger bun among other things.)
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I wonder if the zombie thing may not be the accepting of Rex's death combined with the those-we-love-always-with-us.
The recurring thing, as always, is home. And/or family. The multi family-able house (that I've been dreaming of my whole life) The green hillside, with blue sky and fresh clean air.
Getting lost is how I feel most times. Williamsburg because I was looking at a house there. Winchester, West Union and the Dillon-Dylans, I'm not sure. Some of the family came into Brown County from Adams (Heck, Brown County came from Adams.) And I've been making up stories from the family tree.
Steps must be taken for changes, and bread is basic nourishment, whether mind body or spirit, or any combination thereof, I don't know.
Yet another dream of Rex being still alive and the overwhelming concern to inform Social Security that he isn't really dead after all. He is reluctant to contact them for fear that they will make him pay everything back.
Since they haven't paid anything but the death benefit, this makes no sense in the waking world.
As in the other Still Alive dreams, Rex is sitting in/on a balcony/patio overlooking a verdant hillside. All of these dreams have featured this vista.
I am looking at Rex and realizing (?) at first that he may have had a stroke at some point. The corner of his eye droops and the corner of his mouth on the same side is twisted. I start doing some research, comparing pictures, and figure out that what I am seeing as signs of a stroke could also be indications that he is indeed a zombie, or becoming one.
This time -- this dream -- I am curious enough to go to the graveyard and see if the grave has been disturbed, and if so, to raise hell with the caretakers who never informed me of the problem. When I get there, the cemetery and plot are green and serene, as if nothing had ever happened. There's a smaller block on one of the headstone blocks, which I think is Rex's stone set on my daughter's stone, but when I look at the names they are not theirs. The names belong to ancient ancestors (Dillon, for one. Also spelled Dylan)
That, I realize, is because I am looking at the wrong graveyard. I am at the West Union cemetary instead of the Winchester one. (Rex is buried at Tate Township in Bethel.) But it's very interesting that I have been drawn to a family plot that looks so much like the family plot I expected, even to the location of the bushes, and I wander around a bit finding other (probable) ancestors.
Also, at some point, I kick the stone that isn't Rex's off the stone that isn't my daughter's and it just crumbles into a pile of gray and white pebbles and dust.
I go "home" to ask Rex about it, the whole zombie/stroke/ is he dead or not.
I am in Williamsburg, in the dark, in the rain, trying to get home. I know the streets of Williamsburg almost as well as Bethel, but in the dream, these streets were all somehow wrong. They kept ending in dead ends, alleys, or hallways with steps. I kept turning around so I wouldn't have to drive the narrow stairways. Some went up; some go down. But steps in streets are just weird, and when the streets turn into hallways and none of them go where they are supposed to and I am getting lost when I should definitely know where I am, I become totally confused.
But I keep trying to find my way out or back.
Was driving someone (David R?)from Williamsburg to Bethel, and was taking the back roads. I told him I really like Twin Bridges Roads, and that taking Twin Bridges--New Haven Road would get us there without going through town. (To the best of my knowledge, there is no such road.)There was a parallel road once we got to the crossroads, and some numbers and a movie were tangled up in this part of the dream.
One of the twin bridges was a covered bridge, and the other one wasn't there.
*********************************************************************************
The landlords of the Winchester house are going to let me and Rex move back in. Only the house is not the one that was there. It is the big one that I have dreamed of before, with an attached but separate suite on the ground floor (reminiscent of my first apartment that was a side of a house) and a vast upstairs that could be made into separate suites for the girls and their families. Except it was only Tammy and her family. There were even units that could house some of their rescues without letting them into the main house.
Anyway, Rex negotiated ferociously with Nancy and Gene to get us back into the house, and he succeeded.
Then he was gone, and I was moving in with my mom, only I was moving into the little bathroom suite off to the side. I was going to make my bookshelves into a wall (something I would do here at the trailer if it were up to me to separate living room and dining room) but the closet nook takes up all the space where I want to make the wall.
Tammy and the kids are going to move into the upstairs and while we were discussing remodeling -- we knew we should be able to put a kitchen in because there is already plumbing for the bathroom up there -- we discovered that there was already an existing kitchen cubicle in the attic that can be expanded.
Tam and I were unsure if David would be moving into the upstairs apartment with her and the kids, but he could of course. With just himself.
But we also don't want to set a bad example of being cruel and uncaring to people who we actually CAN help -- an opportunity that is rare in our lives, and precious therefore -- and we want to teach the kids compassion and compassionate actions. Then we discover the garage and tool shed and such, all adaptable for helping those who need help. It will also keep them nearby if we should need their help like for babysitting.
*********************************************************************************
Something about loaves of bread. A short loaf and a long loaf of sandwich bread, to be used for making all sorts if sandwiches. (I blame that on a Facebook meme with sliced bread as pb&j, hot dog bun and hamburger bun among other things.)
*********************************************************************************
I wonder if the zombie thing may not be the accepting of Rex's death combined with the those-we-love-always-with-us.
The recurring thing, as always, is home. And/or family. The multi family-able house (that I've been dreaming of my whole life) The green hillside, with blue sky and fresh clean air.
Getting lost is how I feel most times. Williamsburg because I was looking at a house there. Winchester, West Union and the Dillon-Dylans, I'm not sure. Some of the family came into Brown County from Adams (Heck, Brown County came from Adams.) And I've been making up stories from the family tree.
Steps must be taken for changes, and bread is basic nourishment, whether mind body or spirit, or any combination thereof, I don't know.
