NOTE: Usually, in a blog post, I put captioned images to emphasize certain points. I won't be doing that this time. I want to treat this topic with a certain amount of respect and I feel images would detract from that. Below is a transcript of my video.
I dream about dead people.
Sounds kinda morbid, doesn't it? It isn't, though. I don't really dream about them being dead, but rather it's this weird feeling that they aren't really dead. In my dreams, it's a palpable feeling that they are still alive. They're just hiding, waiting for me to find them. Sometimes, they've even leave me clues to their whereabouts, like I'm the only one they want to reach them, like an odd game of hide-and-seek.
Usually, it's a dream about a former employer I had when I was a teenager. We became very close friends. He died of ... well, I'm not exactly sure. It may have been a heart attack brought on by drug abuse. Someone may have told me back then (Warren died about 30 years ago) but I've forgotten or suppressed it. I don't know and don't want to know. I was 16 years old.
After Warren's death, I was in his home and I found myself taken by a compulsion to go through all of his closets, cabinets, and any other storage place that had a door. I was looking for something but couldn't put my finger on it. I went to my mom and told her what happened. She told me that I was looking for my friend. I think she hit the nail on the head. She can be very insightful that way.
I was invited to be a pall-bearer at his funeral. I didn't go. I can't bear funerals. There is a wrongness to them that I can't ignore. I learned later on that there were so few people in attendance that the pall-bearers couldn't lift the coffin. I admit that I feel a certain amount of guilt because of that. However, maybe paradoxically, I feel no regret for not attending. He was my friend; my friend was gone. His funeral was not part of his life. It was part of other people's lives, people who I didn't really care to share that experience with.
So, now, 30 years later, Warren is one of a handful of people I've known who have died and who linger in my life through these recurring dreams.
I've looked on the internet for people who experience this same phenomenon. Most of what I find is a bunch of hoodoo-voodoo explanations about earthbound spirits and ethereal visitations. I have read an interesting article claiming that the deceased may represent my own attempts at bridging problems in my life, that there is something represented by them that could help me resolve the issue at hand. Eh. *shrug* Who knows?
A friend of mine, who lives on the East Coast, recently lost her cat who had been a great friend to her. She is experiencing something like what I felt all those many years ago. She writes: (*snipped from facebook and redacted for privacy*) "I can't shake the feeling that [my cat] should be just around the corner somewhere. that he's not really dead, that he's just napping somewhere I haven't looked yet. It's very disconcerting."
Yes, it may feel strange for a while. Maybe he'll visit her in her dreams, like Warren visits me. Or not. Either way, it's good to honor these moments and treat them with care, just as if these people were still alive. Who knows? Maybe it'll be your last opportunity to express to them how much you continue to love them.
