Like most people, I am sure that I dream more than I think I do. Sometimes, when I wake up, I know I have dreamed, but have no idea what my dream was about, even though while dreaming it, it seemed unforgettable. Other times, I remember little things about my dreams, but I can’t quite put the little things together coherently. Other times, I don’t think that I dreamed at all – but I am probably wrong. I assume that dreams come in someway every night.

But once in a while a dream sticks with you, and you remember it (or at least you think you do) from start to finish. And some of those dreams are really pleasant. And others are NIGHTMARES!!!

Last night was a nightmare.

Now I usually have some context for my dreams. They usually revolve around familiar themes. I have a lot of travel dreams – I am always surprised at the creativity of my architectural design as I travel to new places and see buildings which, if I knew how to replicate them in real life, I would have fame and fortune. Sometimes, I walk or run or move in some other way through parks and wilderness and extraordinary mountains, or along rivers or river trails. If I were an artist or a painter, I would put them on paper or canvas and, yes, I would have fame and fortune. 

Last night, if there was context, I sure couldn’t find it.

We are babysitting for our grandchildren this week, while there parents are enjoying some well deserved time off. Unfortunately, our three year old grandson seems to like to get up at 5 a.m. like clockwork. Edie went to entertain him (no way he was going back to sleep), while I tried to sleep some more so that I would be in better shape during the day. I had a hard time falling asleep, and thought, about 6 or so, that I should just get up. That’s when I must have fallen asleep.

The dream seemed to be long lasting, and while I was dreaming, I didn’t know I was dreaming. I was in bed (not our normal bed, but a bed), Edie had awakened earlier and was not there, and I got up. I went into the bathroom (not our bathroom, but a bathroom) to wash and brush my teeth. But when I looked at myself in the mirror above the sink, I saw that I was virtually completely tattooed with coal black ink. Not my face, but from the neck down. There were some spaces where there was no tattoo and it was the spaces that created the design. I remember yelling “no” (did I say anything out loud or was the yelling just in the dream? I don’t know), moving back form the sink, looking down, and seeing no tattoo. Then I looked back in the mirror and the tattoo was back. But this time, in addition, there was a man standing behind me. He was sort of young, looked normal, dressed normally, but who was he, and how did he get into the bathroom. I turned around and he wasn’t there. But there in the mirror he was, standing behind my tattooed body.

I am not sure of the plot line, if there was one. But I know that I left the bathroom, and now the man was really there. But was he? He was talking to me, but I wasn’t really listening. I assumed he wasn’t real – but I reached out to touch him, and there he was – completely touchable. At that point, a number of different people appeared, all out of nowhere. I didn’t know if they were real. Some of them had tattoos, some did not. I looked down at myself and now I had about half the tattoos I had when I looked in the mirror. They were still coal black blobs with designs of bare skin, but they didn’t cover my entire body. I was very ill at ease; I didn’t know what to do. I had no idea who any of these people (if they were people) were, or why they were there.

I knew something weird and unique was happening. I didn’t know what it was. There was no one I could ask. I was all alone, except for these beings who just appeared. I still didn’t know if they were real or I was real. 

Whatever it was, it gave me the chills and waking up didn’t end the chills. It was like the dream was still with me (maybe it is, even now), but I couldn’t fully sense or experience it because I was awake.

What do I need? A long winter’s nap.

Tomorrow? Back to our regularly scheduled posting.