I wish I understood dreams better.  They can be simultaneously maddening and obscure…yet comforting.  I had one of those experiences last night.  My father’s sister – my Aunt Betty – came through loud and clear with a message.  The imagery was hazy – just my subconscious recalling this photo, I suppose, taken in her prime when she was 20, I think. 

Black and white photo of blonde women in 1950's.
Aunt Betty

This was her message – coming through on the eve of the 51st anniversary of her death.  I jotted the nuggets down hurriedly in my trusty teensy bedside notebook, while still rousing myself awake:

You were so young when I died.  It was 51 years ago today.  Incredible.  July 22, 1971.  I know it’s hard to understand.  I changed that day, but I’m always close.  Just remember me.  Close your eyes and I’m near.

  • I know you wonder about your dad.  He’s here.  He knows you see him in the clouds and stars.  You’re right – he IS the whisper you feel when a breeze kisses your face. 
  • We’re okay.  It’s not what you think – we’re energy in free form.  We float and gravitate away from and toward one another. 
  • Your mom is here, too, but she’s childlike.  Your Dad acknowledges her but keeps his distance.  What happened to her?

And that was it!  I woke up and had the feeling of jet lag.  Restless sleep and not enough of it.  Foggy.  Headachy. 

Do I think about my long-departed father A LOT?  Yes.  Every day and I do sense him when I look up – toward cloud formations, especially, and I imagine he’s near in the soft breezes.   

And – the message about my mom:  She’s here, too, but she’s childlike was poignant and painful.  Mom suffered from Alzheimer’s and became increasingly incapacitated on her quick descent toward death.  Aunt Betty’s query – ‘What happened to her?’ was hard to hear, yet so loud in my early morning recall of the dream. I understood.  Aunt Betty didn’t recognize her, and we scarcely did – especially toward the end.

Gratitude this morning for messages.  Whether it’s a channeling of dear Aunt Betty on the anniversary of her death or my active dream state working out conundrums and emotions, I’m in a mood to receive.

-Vicki

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