Dreams of My Parents

Last night I had a dream in which I picked up a Parade magazine. That “magazine” that’s included in Sunday newspapers? On the back of the Parade magazine was a photo of my girls and my mother sitting at the side of what appeared to be a country road. It was shady and they were near a bridge; perhaps not under it but it was in the background.

The three of them were sitting side-by-side, with their legs out straight and my mom had her ankles crossed. Annie and Brigid were younger than they are now and they were first in the row and then my mom. My mom was dressed in her typical sort of mom clothes — slacks, a blouse and colorful sweater and of course she had her purse with her. The most striking aspect of the photo was that the girls were next to my mom but they were not touching and my mom was not in full color. The girls were in full color and my mom was in something I can best describe as a hazy sort of half color next to them.

In the dream, I was shocked at seeing the photo and had no idea when it had been taken. In the dream I was very, very sad and crying because I miss my mother. But this morning, in the shower I was thinking about it and I think it wasn’t just a dream. My mother was never one for grand gestures.  Except for the Christmas she was going to surprise my sister Katie with a Coach bag; she hid it so well she couldn’t find it and we all spent Christmas looking for Katie’s purse. Anyway, I haven’t heard from my mother since she died almost four years ago but now I think I have and she is watching over my girls.

This dream reminds me of a visit from my dad. My dad died October 22, 2005. We didn’t really do much for Thanksgiving that year but the next year we rented a huge, incredible beach house and had dinner with friends and family. I think there were 25 or so people there and that’s very big for my family. One night while we were there, I had a dream that I was home, not a home I recognized but it was my home in the dream, my room. It was a basement room with windows up near the ceiling. I was lying in bed and I knew my dad was out for the evening. While I was lying there I heard him coming home, he walked by my window. And I saw just his legs, with suit pants on and a long rain coat and I could hear his footsteps. I thought, “I wonder if he will come in and say goodnight to me?”

In the dream, my bedroom door was opening and then in reality, the bedroom door of the beach house slammed shut and I was instantly jolted awake. And when I woke up I was filled with such joy. It could have been just a dream but because of the overwhelming feeling of pure joy that I felt upon waking, I have to believe it was a visit from my dad.

I wish I could illustrate this post because the images are so clear and permanent and vivid in my brain; but I know that any facsimile would never do them justice.

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40 thoughts on “Dreams of My Parents

  1. Cheese&ButterSister says:

    These are way better than the dreams I have

  2. Mrs. P says:

    Your mom visited you…and the symbols in your dream are quite pronounced.
    The crossed legs symbolize an inability to walk with your children, “across the bridge” to the future…but she’s there, watching, as the “parade” goes by.
    Having vivd dreams is a gift, and should not be ignored.
    If you ever have ones and want some insight as to the symbolism, feel free to email me. I have been doing this for a long time and it’s not something I “announce” very often because there are people who think the whole science is loony. I don’t, because I know I can see things and am willing to help anyone who wants it…
    xoxoxo

    • Maggie O'C says:

      I usually do go big on symbols. I knew the bridge was important. I will contact you b/c it is good to have someone to mull over dreams with. I’m a big believer in dream interpretation.

      Thanks!!!!

  3. La La says:

    I love dreams and interpretations. I have a book of recurring theme symbolism and animal totems and what not. I am curious to know what you guys discuss!

  4. Simon says:

    Maggie, this is really cool. I love that you woke up full of joy, I think that means it wasn’t just a dream. beautifully written. I had a dream not too long ago about being chased through the woods by a Kangaroo. That can’t be a good sign.

  5. Wow! What a beautiful dream! I remember after my sister died I had a dream about her, only I know it wasn’t really a dream. I asked her what heaven was like and she said, with the biggest grin on her face, “glorious”.

  6. Brigitte says:

    Ah, Maggie, this is so beautiful and I think you’re right about both things — your Mom is watching over your girls (and you) and your Dad is visiting every once in awhile to make sure his girl is good too. I believe this. I loved this story — your descriptions/writing was beautiful but I believe you when you say they can’t be properly translated to words. There’s just some stuff that can only be felt to the one who’s feeling it.

  7. Margarita says:

    Beautiful, Maggie. Love never goes away! xoM

  8. Andrew says:

    I never remember my dreams. But if I could remember to dream, I would dream of having these kind of dreams. If that makes sense.

  9. susan says:

    beautiful, maggie, and that sure sounds like a visit to me. my sisters and i have experienced similar “dreams”. enjoy & cherish them. (as you obviously do.) xo

  10. This is so cool, Mags. I definitely think it was your Dad saying hello. It’s such a fantastic feeling, getting those sorts of dream visits, isn’t it??

    • Maggie O'C says:

      Your posts made me think of my dad dream and then when I had the mom one the other night, I thought the time was right. And they are so cool, it’s a unique feeling. You can tell the difference between visits and dreams.

    • Maggie O'C says:

      Your posts made me think of my dad dream and then when I had the mom one the other night, I thought the time was right. And they are so cool, it’s a unique feeling. You can tell the difference between visits and dreams.

      And how is your career transition going?

  11. acflory says:

    I don’t dream about my father, perhaps because I said all my goodbyes in the six weeks he was in hospital dying. I do have dreams about my Mum though and always wake feeling disoriented for a moment before I remember she’s gone.

    Not sure what this says about me but I still occasionally get dreams in which my beloved little dog or one of my faithful cats comes visiting. There is joy in dreams.

  12. […] long ago I wrote about dreams I have had about my parents that were truly more like visits from them. In the past week, I have had a couple of dreams where […]

  13. Sorry for your loss. Happy for your visits.

  14. amywestdotco says:

    You know, I was expecting the a completely different turn at the end. The door closes and you’re jarred awake and sad. It’s really interesting to me that there was overwhelming joy in that moment. Perhaps a little hope for those of us not quite in that mindset yet…

    • Maggie O'C says:

      I think that is what the difference is, it’s that feeling of joy that I cannot describe. It’s not like the joy your children give you, it is like an ET light inside you. I had another experience with it. Maybe I will blog about that sometime. The stories that I have heard of visitations like this all of the common element of that feeling! I am so very VERY sorry about your dad. That’s too young.

  15. havenlilianna says:

    My dad was my rock. When he died (completely unexpected, and at 21 I had to make the hardest decision of my life and have them stop recessutating him.), I was completely lost. This was June 2007. I lost faith in an afterlife, that a god would be so cruel to rip him away from me like that. I would (and still do) dream of him often being alive, so vivid I would go to call him the next day, completely forgetting he was gone.

    2 years later, I had my first child. He due date was the date my dad had died. He was born 5 days before. Most of the photos I have of my dad are digital, we just aren’t the kind of people that have photos up around, so my son had maybe seen one or 2 pictures total, in passing, not being shown and told who was in the pictures.

    When Oliver was 2, we moved back to my hometown. Suddenly, Oliver starts to talk about Grandpa Dennis (my dad) playing with him. My husband and I were kinda shocked, and decided he must have heard us talking about him or something. Around the time he turned 3 this year, he found a photo of my dad, one of the most recent ones I have. He brought it to me, running, yelling, “it’s grandpa Dennis, mama! I love grandpa Dennis.” me, stunned: “Baby, grandpa Dennis is gone, he’s mamas papa, you didn’t get to meet him, but he would have loved you.” him: ” no mama, he comes by all the time. He loves us.” (meaning him and his sister, who is 2 years younger)

    She doesn’t talk yet, but since Oliver still sees him, I’m betting she does too. So, I dunno what I believe about afterlives. It’s a gray area.

    • Maggie O'C says:

      Ahhh, that is wonderful and makes me teary and happy. I have no doubt your dad is visiting Oliver. Death is so hard but also so miraculous. Thank you for sharing this with me. You should blog about it. Best to you.

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