Last night I had the strangest dream. (Couldn’t help but sing the tune in my head while I wrote that line) I know that I have always cherished the times when Mom visited me in my dreams – there have only been three times that I remember but each one was so powerful it left me reeling for days. I was always so impatient that she come – her first appearance wasn’t until four months after she passed away. I was on holidays with my family.
Dad’s first appearance was last night – but it left almost no impression on me.
There I was with Mom and Dad – both of them had been declared palliative. (true)
Mom was upset, she said to me in tears, “I never did see France. I always wanted to go to France. Let’s go.”
She appeared to be so anxious to get to France with Dad and myself that I could do nothing other than try to make arrangements. Here’s where fact blends with fiction – those dreams do pretty good jobs of blurring lines of reality. I knew I could count on Veteran’s Affairs Canada to help – they had been so helpful in the past. I thought maybe they’d be able to get us on a plane pronto and have France wave the passport issue.
Next “scene” I recall, I’m on a plane with Mom and Dad and some other fellow who was declared palliative – and on our way without passports to France.
Next scene is in a hotel in France and Mom looks great – she is almost revived. Dad is still not well – the other guy is … worse. I have arranged care for everyone (true) and then I think we all go out for dinner. You know what happens when you wait to write down your dream – it just gets more difficult to fill in the pieces of action.
I remember feeling so excited that the trip to France had helped my parents to get better.
I woke up at this point and thought, “Wow, I’m having a dream about Mom and Dad. They have made their appearance.”
When I fell back to sleep I was on a plane going home … by myself. But I was not inside the plane – I was outside on the nose of the flight deck. I thought I was in trouble and would not be able to get inside. The plane was flying very low over the ground but as it approached the Atlantic Ocean I knew it would have to climb to get out of the way of the waves. I was splashed several times. Television screens lined the ocean to give sun-bathers and swimmers a glimpse of what the ocean looked like further out. I realized this part of the trip was going to get cold (it was dark) and wet and I need to get inside. So, I did what anyone would do – I knocked on the pilot’s window. He heard my knocking and was a bit startled. Nonetheless, I climbed down the side of the window to the ledge and the pilot opened his window to allow me to slide in to safety.
What the heck?
Were Mom and Dad in the plane too? I don’t remember.
I made it safely so that I could return home to Canada.
Planes, palliative, passports, Paula. Was this a “P” based dream?
France, freezing cold, flights, father. Or was this dream a dream of “F”s?
Mom and Dad travelled to many places, but never France. What on earth I dreamed that Mom wanted to go to France for? Your guess is as good as mine.
As for my flight home, well, it was no “dream flight”.
Sorry this post was so random. Just thought I’d share some of the confusion – my gift to you.