Monday, November 4, 2013

Defining the dreams

I rarely ever remember having bad dreams when I was younger.  Maybe I did and I've just blocked them out but, honestly, I don't remember them being a part of my childhood.

When I was around 20 and moved into my first apartment I started to have nightmares.  Wake me from my sleep screaming, leave me crying myself back to sleep nightmares.

Usually they are pretty much the same.  Something is trying to kill me.  Usually aliens in the form of people who are with me - causing the ceiling to start to lower to crush me or if I move a certain way/say a certain thing it will trigger a response that leads to my death.  So - yeah - fun stuff which is why I refuse to talk about aliens or watch anything with them in it. I've adjusted to these and stopped trying to figure them out.  I know enough now that when I am startled awake I can reason with myself enough to relax and sleep again. (This does partially explain why I rarely sleep too!)

A couple nights ago though, I had the most horrible nightmare and I can't shake it.  A good friend asked me about it and I could not stop crying as I shared the details.  So, I've decided to blog about it.  Sometimes when I write things out, I find my answer.  I'm hoping for that to happen.  If not, I'm hoping someone else can shed some light and help me shake this experience.

A couple of fun Holly facts first.
1. I don't watch scary movies.
2. I don't watch violent movies.
3. Yes, I watch The Walking Dead but that's zombies and I can draw that line ;-)  Not to mention it's the only TV show I watch.

That said.  This nightmare was not about me, I'm sure that is why I can't shake it and need to figure it out.  It's about someone I love and look up to more than he will likely ever realize... my dad.

Please remember this is not real - it was a nightmare. A dream.  This did not happen in real life. I'm just trying to find it's meaning.

In this nightmare, I was living in a corner house on the edge of town.  It was red brick and like a ranch style house but double in length.  There was a huge morton garage like building that was part of my property too.  There were a lot of people at my house, 50-ish, some I knew, some I didn't.  My parents were there, as was my daughter and Morgan Freeman.  (I just saw Last Vegas - which I loved - so I'm sure that's how he ended up in the mix!).  My dad, although he was talking to everyone (very typical of him!) was not happy to be there.  He didn't want to be.  I begged him to come and he did. Because, that's what dad's do when their daughters beg (well, sometimes).

It was a summer day and there was a group of St. Jude runners that were set to go by the house.  We all went outside to cheer them on as they ran by.  It was so exciting and we were all so proud to cheer them on as they ran for such a great cause.

When we returned inside there were 2 gunman, wearing masks and holding machine gun like guns.  They had on solid green uniform like clothes and black masks covering their heads and faces, ski masks, you could see their eyes.

They divided us into groups and put us in the Morton building/shed.  Their plans were to shoot each group. Whoever lived - lived.  Whoever didn't, well they died.  I don't recall who all was in my group but my parents were - so was Allison and Morgan Freeman.  My dad insisted Allison and I go behind him.  There were people in front of him but not many.  I was directly behind him, Allison behind me.  Morgan Freeman was next to my dad and my mom was behind him. 

I remember my dad telling me to be very quiet and not to move.  He told me not to move at least twice (I may not listen very well and sometimes think I know what's better).  I closed my eyes, holding onto my dad with one hand and the other arm was gripped around Allison and the shooting began. I could hear the sounds of the firing getting closer and then feel the weight of lifeless bodies against me.  When it stopped they just left.  Just walked away.  While most people stood up and just went about the day, I remember slowly pushing my dad's body off of Allison and I.  Allison was fine. My mom was fine.  Morgan Freeman was fine and had his arms wrapped around my mom.  I was fine.  My dad.... he was not.  He was dead.  And I lost it.  I woke up crying and saying the words "He didn't want to come... he didn't even want to come." to my mom as I held my dad.

And that's where it ended.  I cried the entire time I typed this.  I am sure there is a meaning to it and I need to figure it out. 

I spent the entire day wanting and needing to call my dad but it took until around 5pm before I could bring myself to do it.  I cried as the phone rang and I waited for him to answer.  I absorbed every second he laughed (which he does often) and our conversation.

I needed to ask him for a favor.  To do something for me.  It took until 5 pm for me to convince myself that I could do this.  That I could ask for a favor and it wouldn't lead to his death.  He was more than happy to help me out (he's building something for me!)  just as he always is.

So, I'm trying to wrap my brain around this.  There are so many things going on...
One of my birches lost her father last week and he was laid to rest the day of my nightmare.
My dad's brother (my uncle) is going through a lot right now and we know each day is a gift.
My BFF has buried 2 grandfathers in the past year.
There's been a lot of death. So that could be weighing on my mind. Maybe I'm so afraid of losing him and not being able to stop it from happening.

Maybe I ask too much of him.  Maybe the favors (which I don't feel are that many!) are too many.  Maybe I need to stop asking him for help.  (I kinda ruled that out when I needed his help!).

Maybe I need to accept that as much as I want to protect my dad from the hurtful things in life - I can't.  I can't take away the pain he feels, I can't make everything better... I can't protect him from everything... yet he can continue to protect me.  Maybe that's it.  Maybe I needed to know that someone is protecting me.  That I can let go of some of my fears because he's always looking out for me.

I don't know... and Morgan Freeman... I know I just saw a great movie with him in it but it's odd to me he would be such a memorable part of the dream.

I think I just figured it out.  See, THIS is why I blog - to find my answers.  I don't know how I missed this.

Morgan Freeman has a thing for my mom.
  If she left my dad though, it would break his heart and he would die.

Well, there we go.  Mystery solved!  I feel so much better.  Seriously.  No dream interpretations needed.  I have my answer and I like it.  I'm sticking with it!

And clearly, Morgan Freeman has excellent taste in women ;-)

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