The Dream Sequence
I don’t recall a lot of my nighttime dreams. Most are just a collage of images and impressions that stream across my unconsciousness at the end of a tiring day, never to be remembered again.
But last night I had an unusually vivid dream that so moved me as to awaken hours before I needed to on a Saturday morning.
I was seriously ill but while I was in my own bed, I was not in my own bedroom. This was a much larger room with more space and there were chairs around and nicer bedroom furniture than I own. People were coming to visit and stay with me during my illness, many of them friends and family, even many fellow bloggers that I know.I had muscle and body aches along with shortness of breath and dizziness. I couldn’t communicate well and labored to greet people. I even said the wrong name of someone I know well and quickly apologized. He didn’t seem to take offense as he gave me a hug.
While no one would say anything there was the unstated expectation that this was some kind of a death watch. They were gathered around me for one last time.
It wasn’t a sad occasion however. Someone was making food in the kitchen and everyone had a plate. There was music on the CD player next to my bed and folks were having a good time talking, laughing and sharing old stories.
At one point, someone innocently went to put on a CD of songs performed by someone known to everyone in the room. He wasn’t anyone famous but looked like a young man I know from my gym (although I don’t know if this person is a singer in reality). When the music started, someone gasped and said, “Oh, you know you wrong for that.” The person who had put it on didn’t understand why the objection, and neither did I. I wanted to know why they thought it was wrong to play that CD. Someone said, “Didn’t you hear? He (the singer) just passed.” It was suggested in whispers that he’d died from the virus.
I was heartbroken at the news and began to cry, tears running down my face. Someone said, “Turn it off” but I insisted they leave it on, I wanted to hear the voice of this person we all knew, one last time. The mood in the room turned more somber and we all just sat quietly listening.
I was quite sad when I awakened. I don’t know what it meant or why I saw these images and those particular people. Perhaps concerns about my aging grandmother and my father’s situation, the recent death of Brock Peters, the grim news about playwright August Wilson’s failing health, or the planned remembrance and scholarship fundraiser in honor of Rashawn Brazell were all a jumble of thoughts roaming through my brain and they came together in some personalized version.
It has caused me to reflect on how fleeting life is and left me wondering, when my time comes, who will gather around.
Posted by bernie at August 27, 2005 10:07 AMTrackBack
This reminds me a bit of both the final episode of 'Six Feet Under' (which I woke up thinking/dreaming about the next morning) and the death of John Hammond, who wanted to hear Billie Holiday (whom he 'discovered') as he was passing on. I think there's something very moving in this dream about wanting to be with friends and family and also wanting to leave something behind after you've gone...
Posted by: ReggieH at August 29, 2005 3:35 PM