"The best thing about dreams is that fleeting moment, when you are between sleep and awake, when you don't know the difference between reality and fantasy, when for just that one moment you feel with your entire soul that the dream is reality, and it really happened."
I woke up this morning with a smile already on my face. My whole being just felt refreshed and alive even though I knew that it was just a dream. Typically I don't remember my dreams, so when I do they tend to be extremely vivid and envelop me in both physical and emotional sensations.
Growing up we spent a lot of time at my grandparent's home in St. George. Since it has been probably a little over 12 years since that house was sold, I was surprised that it was the setting of my dream the other night. Even more ironic was that nobody from the family was there. I wasn't there by myself though and the smile came because I knew who was waiting for me to finish soaking in childhood memories.
I watched myself walk up the basement stairs and look around the garage with the notorious "Blue Streak" Volvo parked in its normal place and the tan Lincoln Town Car situated next to it. Through the door was the pantry room on the left and then past the washer and dryer on the right into Grandpa's television room. The curtains were drawn open on the sliding glass doors behind his Lazy Boy and I could see the golf course a few steps from the back lawn lush green and aching to be used.
Through the kitchen where so many family events, gossip, who needed five-in-the-mouth discussions and ever so much more took place all filled with love. Honestly the house is still so crystal clear to my memory that it almost makes me dizzy. Of course even being as little as I was when they moved to St. George, I still have an imprint in my mind of their house in Bountiful also. I suppose when there are so many memories involved in certain places those places never fully leave you.
I walked into the entryway by the front door, noting the white statue carefully balancing a plant on top, when my hand was lovingly taken and we walked out the door, carefully closing it behind us.
I woke up this morning with a smile already on my face. My whole being just felt refreshed and alive even though I knew that it was just a dream. Typically I don't remember my dreams, so when I do they tend to be extremely vivid and envelop me in both physical and emotional sensations.
Growing up we spent a lot of time at my grandparent's home in St. George. Since it has been probably a little over 12 years since that house was sold, I was surprised that it was the setting of my dream the other night. Even more ironic was that nobody from the family was there. I wasn't there by myself though and the smile came because I knew who was waiting for me to finish soaking in childhood memories.
I watched myself walk up the basement stairs and look around the garage with the notorious "Blue Streak" Volvo parked in its normal place and the tan Lincoln Town Car situated next to it. Through the door was the pantry room on the left and then past the washer and dryer on the right into Grandpa's television room. The curtains were drawn open on the sliding glass doors behind his Lazy Boy and I could see the golf course a few steps from the back lawn lush green and aching to be used.
Through the kitchen where so many family events, gossip, who needed five-in-the-mouth discussions and ever so much more took place all filled with love. Honestly the house is still so crystal clear to my memory that it almost makes me dizzy. Of course even being as little as I was when they moved to St. George, I still have an imprint in my mind of their house in Bountiful also. I suppose when there are so many memories involved in certain places those places never fully leave you.
I walked into the entryway by the front door, noting the white statue carefully balancing a plant on top, when my hand was lovingly taken and we walked out the door, carefully closing it behind us.
posted by B at
4:09 PM
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