My Happy Childhood Home

I dreamed that I was back in my old hometown, Snellville. I must have been young because I took a jog around the downtown and got a good workout and was all sweaty and out of breath, and by the end I could smell the car exhaust from the highway on my clothes. At that point the dream became lucid; I was completely aware that I was dreaming and able to choose what to do. To test it, I tried jumping off the ground and I was able to fly.

I went home and Mom and Dad were up in their bedroom. They had gotten another dog and another kitten and Dad was on the floor playing with the two cats, rolling jingle bells across the floor for them. They had a book of wallpaper samples and had torn several out and put them up on the wall and we talked about them. "I like this one, of course, but it's just like what you've got now except in reverse. I like these other ones better; they're more of a change."

I spent a fair amount of time just enjoying their company, knowing how lucky I was to have them. Then I walked around the house. In my bedroom, where the bed was neatly made because I'd been gone for a while. The bathroom, with cosmetics and electronics plugged in and charging. The second bedroom, filled with my clothes that had been folded but I never put away. Downstairs into the kitchen, where there was a bag of groceries to be put up. I ate a spoonful of peanut butter and realized how much better it tasted back then than it does now. I read the notes on fridge. One was about my first husband Tim's truck. This was the lovely home I grew up in, where for the most part we were all so happy.

I went out the front door and ran up the hill, and all through the old neighborhood, marveling at what it felt like to be able to run, knowing it was a dream. Then I went back to the house, up to my parents' room where Mom was sitting on the floor. I said, "I want you to know how much I love you," and started crying. We hugged and both started crying. "Because at the end, things aren't good between us, and I'm sorry, and I do really love you." Then I started to wake up, and I didn't want to leave. That's how I woke up, crying and saying "I don't want to go, I don't want to go."

This is a dream I've been wishing I could have for a long time, that Mom still loved me and I could apologize to her and tell her I loved her. I often dream of seeing Dad and usually everything is all right with him, but my dreams of Mom have been painful and unresolved. I've been worried they mean she still isn't happy. I hope this means I can begin to let her go.