A dream

The other night I had a dream. It was rather long and involved (I dream often and vividly, so this is nothing new), but the part of the dream that stayed with me was the end.

I sat at a long table, next to me my younger brother, and next to him, my uncle Val. We were eating. I turned to my uncle Val and I said, "I'm so glad you got through that illness, I'm so glad you're still with us." Then I woke.

My uncle Val passed on of a debilitating illness more than 5 years ago.

When talking to my therapist she asked what my uncle Val represented to me. For me, a quick answer- Val was the uncle we rarely saw because he lived out in California- but he (in my child's eyes) was like a superhero. He was tall, and tanned and muscular. He was funny, and caring and loving. He was a good father and a good husband- fun but willing to maintain boundaries. I remember finding a small frame containing a quote in his house, at his funeral no less, but it read, "The greatest gift a man can ever give his children is to love their mother unconditionally." I don't know if he really did or not- but as far as I know, he did. That is the impression I am left with not having really ever been able to evaluate my uncle Val's and his wife's relationship through adult eyes. They were better off than my parents, weren't they?

It was an odd dream to have- a perplexing one. Why would my subconscious so obviously taunt my conscious mind- having Val be alive and well (he really looked healthy in my dream) when in reality, he is long gone from this physical world.

My therapist suggested that something that he represents to me is alive and well- something that I might consciously doubt surviving, is actually going to make it. What that is, I have no idea. But, if it is so, then let it be so. I'm sure my uncle Val was less saint than I ever held him in my child's memories of him, but all the same- he represented only good in my world.

I look forward to discovering what message this dream may have held.