Thankful for Dreams

If you are a frequent reader, you know that my sister died in 2015.  The pain lessens but never totally goes away. Thankfully my brother Clancy, my daughters and I are able to reminisce and laugh at various memories. She had a quirky sense of humor and was a fan of British humor like Benny Hill (frightening), Absolutely Fab and Monty Python (frightening). She would tell you that her favorite movie was Sense and Sensibility. Lies! In reality her favorite movie was Bachelor Party with Tom Hanks. I couldn’t even tell you how many times she and my father watched this movie and would laugh uproariously every single time. I would just shake my head. If you want to see what I mean, please on demand or Amazon Prime this movie. You’ll never look at Tom Hanks the same again!


Anyhoo, I really miss her. The sad thing is she was a person like my mother: hated to have her picture taken. Therefore, we have very few pictures of Robin: a few as a child but less than that as an adult.

That’s why I am thankful when I have a “dream” about her. I’ve had several. It makes me a little sad that she never speaks in these dreams, but she always looks happy and serene.


Last night I had a dream about her. I went to Marie’s house looking for her, and she said, “She isn’t home from work yet.” Seriously? Her hours were 6 a.m. until 2 p.m. Where could she be? She didn’t come home that whole night. The next day I went over again, looking for her. Marie said, “Of course she’s home. But she’s sleeping on the couch so don’t wake her.” I crept into the living room and sure enough: there she was asleep on the couch. She looked beautiful…She was wearing a black coat, black pants and black top, black mules yet oddly: white socks. Her shoulder-length hair was wavy and she had a serene smile on her face. I could have looked at her all day, but that isn’t how dreams work. And in my rational mind I was thinking: Robin never wore shoes, only sneakers. Yes she wore white socks, but she never wore an all-black ensemble. Hmm, maybe this is why she doesn't talk to me!


Being asleep in the dream ensured she didn't talk to me, but that’s okay. It was good seeing her. It’s different when it’s my father. Daddy Clank always has something to say! His dreams are more like “visits” because of what he discusses with me. I know it isn’t really my father: I believe it’s an angel taking a familiar form so I’m not afraid. Regardless: what I am told is always on point. And he looks spiffy in his navy blue three piece suit!


“Seeing” these two always makes me smile. And it helps lessen the pain a little bit more...