Is it a Dream?

And what does it mean?

The other night I had an odd dream. Nothing unusual there we all have odd dreams… right? The dream was immediately before daybreak (my daybreak) and as I lay there, motionless in my early morning stupor, not quite awake to the day, I began to speculate about dreams. Do they have significance, and if not, what’s it all about?

The dream included my late hubby, we were at home with our third daughter, though the daughter wasn’t the woman she is today, she was a child again, a little girl waiting in the doorway in her school uniform.

We were in the old laundry room,  the room was enormous, nothing like its actual size. Loose wires straddled the ceiling and hung haphazardly from the centre and each corner of the room. Hubby, at the top of a ladder, was attempting to fix, re-hang and re-attach the wires. I was watching him and still wearing my PJs. I asked hubby to come down from the ladder and take our child to school, I was worried she would be late and I became agitated until I remembered that it was the school holidays. And then I was awake.

As I lay in bed remembering the dream I began to ask questions. Why was I in my PJs, why wasn’t I taking her to school, where were the other children and what about all those loose wires, what did it mean?

Another beBright Eyeswildering dream  also involved my hubby. It began as we were walking from the church towards the village cemetery, we had just got married, but we were the age we are now, well, I was.

Hubby was wearing a dark suit with a button hole flower and  I was wearing a white dress and  carried flowers. We were holding hands, laughing and talking and feeling very happy. We walked through the cemetery gates and made our way towards hubby’s grave. To the right of the path there was a bar selling alcohol, it had a large yellow awning and was called the Yellow Office.

On reaching the grave I lay my flowers on the shiny granite tablet and we turned to look at each other in bafflement, neitdreams-are-illustrations-from-the-bookyour-soul-is-writing-about-you-dreaming-quoteher of us could comprehend why we were taking flowers to his grave if he was here, standing next to me, it was at this point I awoke from the dream.

A haunting dream never to be forgotten  occurred earlier this year and involved  my grandchildren, mainly one of them. I was with the older ones in the garden of an old stone house, a house that before it was flattened and became part of a car park, stood opposite a hospital in an area I used to know well.

My fourth grandson came rushing around the corner squealing with  delight acropped-jesusnd shouting “OMG, OMG, I’ve just met Jesus!” He was followed by Jesus who could have stepped out of a children’s picture bible. He had long dark hair with a beard, a kind face and beautiful eyes. He was dressed in white, blood stained robes and as he walked towards me he was smiling, he stretched out his arms and gave me a big hug.

In my dreamlike state I told myself to write it down, otherwise I might forget that I too had just met Jesus! I switched on the bedside light and wrote down one word – Jesus!


If and when I remember dreams I usually write them down, but what a pity that in the light of day so many of them are forgotten.

So, why do we dream and what does it mean? If you’ve any ideas on this, then please let me know by using the reply/comments box at the bottom of this page. Alternatively, you could share one of your own dreams.


2 thoughts on “Is it a Dream?

  1. I have lots of dreams, some of which are serialised. My brain seems to want to continue the story so that there is a conclusion, but so far there hasn’t been! There is often an army link, but with people in the dream that I didn’t meet until long after I left the army. Strange beings aren’t we!

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s