When we sleep our minds are busy trying to make sense of what we perceive to be reality. Sometimes “sleeping on it” can even help us solve problems, as the mind works on the problems while we sleep, even though we may not be dreaming about the problems. But dreams are an important part of helping us try to make sense of things, even when the dreams are extremely weird.
I was not able to sleep for a couple of days after my wife died, and when I finally had some semblance of sleep, it seemed to bring about one weird dream after another. (I didn’t have any quality sleep for months, but that’s beside the point for now.) I still remember one of those dreams. I dreamt that Vickie had gone shopping and taken her favorite dog with her, and that I went looking for her and Booger when she had been gone longer than expected. I was unable to find her, though I found Booger. Not knowing what to do, I decided to at least take him home. Then it started raining and storming, hard, and about half-way home there were all sorts of cartoon characters surrounding the car, like Foghorn Leghorn and Bugs Bunny and the like. They were talking at me, and seemed to be advertising, wanting me to try something out (?). And I remember finding it annoying and thinking that the world had been overtaken with advertisements, with companies and people trying to get you to buy things that might not even be in your best interests. Then the road turned straight up toward the sky and Booger and I drove up it until I woke up.
That dream was over 11 years ago, and I still remember it and still wonder what it meant. Some parts are obvious as to their meaning. Others not so, like the cartoon characters …. perhaps (?) my mind was telling me that reality made no sense anymore, that it was all like a cartoon, that it had lost its meaning. I still don’t get the advertisement part, though. Perhaps the advertising and the rain were symbolic of a message of “look out for what’s ahead … it’s gonna be weird.”
Who knows. I do know that the dream was an attempt by my mind to make sense of something that did not make sense to me: Vickie dying. Made no sense. She had had knee replacement surgery and was soon to be able to walk as she hadn’t been able to in years. If anyone should have died, it would have made more sense for it to be me. Our grandkids idolized her, rightly so, because the love she gave them was stronger and more powerful than an old fart man like me could possibly give. A mother’s and grandmother’s love are the strongest loves possible … we men, although capable of love, are just not wired to love in the way a mother/grandmother can.
Anyway, not sure why I decided to share that with you. I guess I mostly wanted to write it out to help me better understand, maybe with the hope that you might try to understand some of your weird dreams. Also, I am trying, half-heartedly, to write a book about Vickie’s death and the consequences in my life, with the thought that it might benefit future widower’s and widows. But, the book is slow, slow go, with me not even having a good outline of the major thoughts yet. And I am not sure I ever will have. I may get to the point where I just say “screw it … I went through it, you deal with it your own way.” God knows that would be in keeping with the way I look at a lot of things, but it would seem to be a waste to have a little bit of a writing talent and not use it to help someone out. We’ll see … time will tell, as they say.