April 23, 2014
I gave away my dream catcher a few months ago. It went to Jen’s 2 year old. I had never met her daughter. The last time I saw Jen, Olili was still in the womb. I was about to do a last visit to my good friend in advance of my leaving the country in December, and I wanted to bring Olili a present. I had purchased the dreamcatcher while visiting the Crazy Horse Monument crafts store in the Black Hills of South Dakota. It was the summer of 2009. I was there as the first stop on what turned out to be my last long trip on the ’02 BMW motorcycle. In the middle of that trip, while cruising a back road in rural West Virginia, I had a catastrophic failure, when the bike’s wiring burned up in an almost comical cloud of smoke and sound. I now refer to that as my $10,000 summer vacation, but that as they say is another story.
Ever since taking it down from over my bed I have been having strikingly lucid dreams of long duration with extremely lifelike circumstances. I have not been in the habit of writing down my dreams in a journal, but occasionally I will write a note or two somewhere so as to remind myself later. A few nights ago, after waking up (it was about 4am, about an hour after the dream ended and I woke up thinking about it) I decided, what the heck, I am retired I can sleep tomorrow whenever I want, I am going to write about this one.
In it I have just received a very large bouquet of flowers. I think I am at the office, but it is not entirely clear. Others are present, though who exactly is not clear either. After exchanging a few words back and forth with them about why I have received this gift I open the note. It is a birthday gift from Summer Templin, a former student. In the note she thanks me again for all I did for her while she was a student at CU.
The dream ends, but I sort of wake up and think about some of the others who have recently said similar things to me, either in person or electronically, or in the case of one of the gifts given to me by the department my last day at work, a fly fishing vest full of many similar sentiments.
By this time I am beginning to be awake. I spend some time in the predawn dark thinking about the word love, and how little I have tended to use it. It is not appropriate in some circumstances, so we find other ways to express the feeling. My mom always used to end our phone calls with “love you, bob” and I would respond “love you, mom”. Lately my friends Chris and Theresa have been doing the same thing, and I respond. This is new to me, and I like it. I then have the idea that I wish to begin referring to all those people who are closest to me now, the ones who use the word “love” when referring to their experiences of me, or when we end a conversation, as “The Essentials”.
One reason for this dream happening right at this time is undoubtedly due to a recent blog post by one of my favorite people, Lori Carson.
She is a most courageous writer, always able to reveal herself in a manner so close to the bone, yet not seeking sympathy. Her words are often just the perfect thing.
Her latest post can be found here: http://lifeandmusic.loricarson.com
At the end of it she points to a fact we all know but often misplace: don’t wait to tell those most important to you that you love them.
So my dear “Essentials”, I love you.