Flights of Fancy
I had a wonderful dream about the girls the other night. Anyone who knows me well knows that I have very detailed dreams and that they can sometimes be very ... weird. I enjoy them though, for the most part, except when people are trying to kill me, which generally only happens when I'm pregnant.
I love having dreams about the girls. They're like little visits from my daughters. Sometimes I'm aware of all that has happened, and I take advantage of my time with them to collect lots of hugs and kisses and tell them I love them. Other times I'm unaware of all that has happened, and I don't even remember that I dreamed about them until quite a while after I've awakened. That's how the last dream was.
K (my husband, who chooses to remain nameless here for professional reasons,) the girls and I were walking along an unfamiliar sidewalk in an unfamiliar town, and there were two helium balloons floating alongside us. No one was holding the balloons, yet they weren't floating away. One of the balloons was heart-shaped, and had the name of a restaurant on it. Mina wanted to go to this place. K asked me if I knew where it was, and I said I didn't. He reached for the balloons even as he told me to grab them so we wouldn't lose the name of the place. As I grabbed the ribbons of the two balloons, I was lifted about a foot off the ground. K grabbed my hand and was also lifted. We called to the girls to grab our hands. Mina grabbed mine, and Layla was running to catch Mina's. She kept slipping from Mina's hand, so I let go of K and grabbed Layla. K caught the hand of one of the girls. That's all there was, other than a couple of people on the other side of the street pointing at us, but it was a very happy feeling, to be floating with the girls.
The most comforting dreams I've had about the girls came soon after losing them. As time has passed, the dreams are fewer and farther between, no matter how much I long for them. I've also found that it's even more rare these days to be aware of the fact that I've lost them when the dreams do come. I read one bereaved mother's suggestion that perhaps her child came to visit her more in dreams early on, when the mother needed her more, but that she was gently withdrawing from her over time so the loss wouldn't seem so sudden and grievous.
In the first dream I had about them after losing them, the girls and I rode on an elevator that opened directly into a pink apartment. The only thing in the room aside from the pink carpet and pink couch was a television. We were very happy, and they were taking turns being swung around and around by me. Mina turned the television on and laid down on her back to watch. I sat down on the couch, and Layla was on her knees next to Mina, pushing on her tummy. I told her to be gentle with Mina, and asked her why she was doing that. She said, "Someone was doing that to me one time." Immediately I realized that I was dreaming, that the girls had died, and that Layla must have seen the resuscitation attempts. I woke feeling comforted that I had been allowed to see them and play with them.
My favorite dream to date was only about Layla, and felt so real that to this day, I'm still not sure whether it was a dream, a hallucination, or a visitation. I spent the night at my mom's house, and I seemed to awaken right at dawn. There is a big mirror against the wall in that bedroom, and I woke facing it. As I lay there thinking and the light in the room slowly increased, I could see in the mirror what looked for all the world like the top of Layla's head on the pillow behind mine. I froze, sure it was a trick of the light or a bunched up blanket, but not wanting to move or shatter the illusion. A moment later, she lifted her head enough for me to see the familiar sleepy face as she put her fingers in her mouth as she always did and laid back down. At this point, I couldn't decide whether I was hallucinating or dreaming, but I didn't want it to end, regardless, so I still refused to move. A couple of minutes later, she was still there, so I tentatively said, "Layla?" I heard a sleepy, "Hmm?" I could hear her! I could talk to her! I talked to her about what heaven was like and whether she was happy there (she said she was.) I asked her if she could fly there. This had been a big concern for me, because just about a week before I lost them, I had assured them that they could fly in heaven. She said she could. I asked her who her favorite person was there, and she told me it was the "toy lady." I asked the toy lady's name, and she told me it was Nohrin. I was a little alarmed at this, because I have a Japanese friend named Nohrin who had just recently moved back to Japan, but I checked with her later, and she was fine. I finally mustered the courage to roll over and face Layla, but she didn't disappear. I couldn't resist touching her and cuddling her, fully expecting her to dissipate if I tried, but she snuggled up to me and I was overjoyed. I tried to smell her hair, but there was no scent to her whatsoever. I'd like to point out here that in my dreams, I can see color, smell, taste, read things and remember what I've read, so the lack of smell didn't necessarily mean to me that I was dreaming. As I was pondering the meaning of this, music started playing outside. I looked toward the window and noticed that the sun was rising. The music sounded like a very loud church orchestra, and I was wondering (not without some aggravation) who would be making so much noise so early in the morning out in the country where my mother lives. I realized too late that as I was distracted from her, Layla had vanished. My first reaction was anger at myself for letting myself get distracted, for starting to take her appearance for granted. My next thought was gratitude for the time I had with her. The music had faded as my thoughts turned back to Layla, but there was never any sense of waking up. I laid quietly for some time, going over what had happened in my mind, then I got up and went out to the living room to tell my mother what had happened.
I know different people will have different opinions about what I experienced. I'm not even sure of my own opinion. I'm just glad it happened, whatever it was.
Addendum: Some time after that dream, I noticed that the mirror had been moved out of that room in my mom's house. I kept forgetting to ask her about it until she read this post and mentioned it to me. She asked Robbie, and it turns out that mirror has been in a packing box in the garage ever since they moved into that house. I sat in stunned disbelief, remembering how real it had seemed, and how I told my mother all the details immediately afterward. I'm sure I went back into my room after talking to my mom, to get dressed if nothing else, and wouldn't I have noticed if the mirror hadn't been there, as convinced as I was that it was real? It's hard to put my disappointment into words, but I still think there was something miraculous about that visit, even if it turns out it had to be a dream.
November 2,2005
I love having dreams about the girls. They're like little visits from my daughters. Sometimes I'm aware of all that has happened, and I take advantage of my time with them to collect lots of hugs and kisses and tell them I love them. Other times I'm unaware of all that has happened, and I don't even remember that I dreamed about them until quite a while after I've awakened. That's how the last dream was.
K (my husband, who chooses to remain nameless here for professional reasons,) the girls and I were walking along an unfamiliar sidewalk in an unfamiliar town, and there were two helium balloons floating alongside us. No one was holding the balloons, yet they weren't floating away. One of the balloons was heart-shaped, and had the name of a restaurant on it. Mina wanted to go to this place. K asked me if I knew where it was, and I said I didn't. He reached for the balloons even as he told me to grab them so we wouldn't lose the name of the place. As I grabbed the ribbons of the two balloons, I was lifted about a foot off the ground. K grabbed my hand and was also lifted. We called to the girls to grab our hands. Mina grabbed mine, and Layla was running to catch Mina's. She kept slipping from Mina's hand, so I let go of K and grabbed Layla. K caught the hand of one of the girls. That's all there was, other than a couple of people on the other side of the street pointing at us, but it was a very happy feeling, to be floating with the girls.
The most comforting dreams I've had about the girls came soon after losing them. As time has passed, the dreams are fewer and farther between, no matter how much I long for them. I've also found that it's even more rare these days to be aware of the fact that I've lost them when the dreams do come. I read one bereaved mother's suggestion that perhaps her child came to visit her more in dreams early on, when the mother needed her more, but that she was gently withdrawing from her over time so the loss wouldn't seem so sudden and grievous.
In the first dream I had about them after losing them, the girls and I rode on an elevator that opened directly into a pink apartment. The only thing in the room aside from the pink carpet and pink couch was a television. We were very happy, and they were taking turns being swung around and around by me. Mina turned the television on and laid down on her back to watch. I sat down on the couch, and Layla was on her knees next to Mina, pushing on her tummy. I told her to be gentle with Mina, and asked her why she was doing that. She said, "Someone was doing that to me one time." Immediately I realized that I was dreaming, that the girls had died, and that Layla must have seen the resuscitation attempts. I woke feeling comforted that I had been allowed to see them and play with them.
My favorite dream to date was only about Layla, and felt so real that to this day, I'm still not sure whether it was a dream, a hallucination, or a visitation. I spent the night at my mom's house, and I seemed to awaken right at dawn. There is a big mirror against the wall in that bedroom, and I woke facing it. As I lay there thinking and the light in the room slowly increased, I could see in the mirror what looked for all the world like the top of Layla's head on the pillow behind mine. I froze, sure it was a trick of the light or a bunched up blanket, but not wanting to move or shatter the illusion. A moment later, she lifted her head enough for me to see the familiar sleepy face as she put her fingers in her mouth as she always did and laid back down. At this point, I couldn't decide whether I was hallucinating or dreaming, but I didn't want it to end, regardless, so I still refused to move. A couple of minutes later, she was still there, so I tentatively said, "Layla?" I heard a sleepy, "Hmm?" I could hear her! I could talk to her! I talked to her about what heaven was like and whether she was happy there (she said she was.) I asked her if she could fly there. This had been a big concern for me, because just about a week before I lost them, I had assured them that they could fly in heaven. She said she could. I asked her who her favorite person was there, and she told me it was the "toy lady." I asked the toy lady's name, and she told me it was Nohrin. I was a little alarmed at this, because I have a Japanese friend named Nohrin who had just recently moved back to Japan, but I checked with her later, and she was fine. I finally mustered the courage to roll over and face Layla, but she didn't disappear. I couldn't resist touching her and cuddling her, fully expecting her to dissipate if I tried, but she snuggled up to me and I was overjoyed. I tried to smell her hair, but there was no scent to her whatsoever. I'd like to point out here that in my dreams, I can see color, smell, taste, read things and remember what I've read, so the lack of smell didn't necessarily mean to me that I was dreaming. As I was pondering the meaning of this, music started playing outside. I looked toward the window and noticed that the sun was rising. The music sounded like a very loud church orchestra, and I was wondering (not without some aggravation) who would be making so much noise so early in the morning out in the country where my mother lives. I realized too late that as I was distracted from her, Layla had vanished. My first reaction was anger at myself for letting myself get distracted, for starting to take her appearance for granted. My next thought was gratitude for the time I had with her. The music had faded as my thoughts turned back to Layla, but there was never any sense of waking up. I laid quietly for some time, going over what had happened in my mind, then I got up and went out to the living room to tell my mother what had happened.
I know different people will have different opinions about what I experienced. I'm not even sure of my own opinion. I'm just glad it happened, whatever it was.
Addendum: Some time after that dream, I noticed that the mirror had been moved out of that room in my mom's house. I kept forgetting to ask her about it until she read this post and mentioned it to me. She asked Robbie, and it turns out that mirror has been in a packing box in the garage ever since they moved into that house. I sat in stunned disbelief, remembering how real it had seemed, and how I told my mother all the details immediately afterward. I'm sure I went back into my room after talking to my mom, to get dressed if nothing else, and wouldn't I have noticed if the mirror hadn't been there, as convinced as I was that it was real? It's hard to put my disappointment into words, but I still think there was something miraculous about that visit, even if it turns out it had to be a dream.
November 2,2005
posted by Nikki | 2:38 PM
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