Other worlds

 

Sometimes my dreams feel more like memories than dreams, but I'm sure I remember my life pretty much completely since I was less than two years old. My memories come with specific images and sometimes feelings and words.

So where do the dreams come from? Some of them, like the one last night also have very specific feelings and thoughts. I know I've been there before and experienced these same things. Only in real life I have not. At least not in this life.

In the dream I have a family, a husband and son and a little girl. My son is an infant, but my daughter is older, maybe eight or nine. We live in a two story house with a basement and it is winter time. Our house is heated with some kind of oil burning furnace on the main floor that I am worried about causing a fire, but my husband assures me it is safe.

Our house is painted a dark color, dark green I think with black trim and my husband leaves on a sled to go ice fishing. I don't want him to go, but he has to, or we won't eat. I wait for him to come home.  I am filled with trepidation and don't know why. I see some men coming to our door and I don't want to answer the door. If I don't answer the door my beautiful love will still be alive.

I know that isn't true, but I can't make myself answer the door.

And then I wake up. And I ache for that man in my dream. He died so young. 

And then I wake up more and begin my day, feeling a sort of emptiness for someone who was probably only in my imagination.