#195 / 2011 May Oaxaca

Two dreams of Joe

#195

May 3

Again, Joe has come to be with me. In this dream Joe is a lot stronger now, walking around and helping as we prepare for a journey.

We are at our little casita in Las Cruces and our landlady Alice is there. We are outside organizing items in preparation for a departure. Joe has stepped around the corner to get something for our journey. As he stepped away he left his footprint in the dust.

He returns and sits down on a lounge chair to eat a sandwich. He takes big hungry bites – not his usual manner, but similar to the way he began eating after he found out he was ill and going to die. After he ate we prepared to leave.

I looked back and reflecting upon that footstep of his in the dust, I knew I would return one day to kiss the ground where he once stood.

May 12

Early in May I had a few weak dreams of Joe, so illusive that I really couldn’t recall them the next morning but by the 12^th a sequence of dreams came to me:

In my first dream there was simply a kiss. We were eating a tortilla together and our lips came together.

This was so vivid that I woke up. I looked at the clock – 6 a.m.

Then I fell back asleep and had another dream.  Beatlick Joe and I were out in the country camping and getting the van ready for a trip. I never really get to see Joe’s face, there is just my sense of his presence walking around, tinkering, helping.

Finally the van is ready and it is time to go. My son is with us and he is only about eight years old in this dream.

There is another young man there on the property and he says he is hungry. Basically I don’t want to spend the time going to get his food and returning, but I offer him a ride or to give him some of my food in the van. Then we are off.

As we commence a journey I become aware of my circumstances and as I look right at Joe and my grown son as an eight-year-old I ask myself, “How can this be happening?” We are hear together; I am so happy, but confused.

I ask myself again, “Is this real; is this real?” I touch Doug’s cheek and think to myself that Joe is gone, Doug won’t have a father. Then, of course, I snap to the fact that Joe is not Doug’s father. And with the light of harsh reality I instantly awaken.

In my dreams of Joe my van is always so prominent. And here I segued straight to another dream involving vans. There was an old VW bus at this farm. Joe and I are strolling around and looking at it from all sides. 

At some point in time the van had been highly customized. There was a big double door like on a step van. We peer inside and I notice there is even a flush toilet. A small wave of envy flows through me as I consider how luxurious a van this would be if it was up and running. I look at that toilet again and wonder where all the waste goes.