From the dark tunnels of dreams

In this dream I was laying on a bed on a Sunday morning in August. I was pretty reflective because I was born exactly 53 years ago. Outside flowers and tomatoes were growing and the grass smelled nice. Remember because this was a dream, I wasn’t upset when I got out of bed and my skin seemed liquid and my hair grew back.
I walked through a dark tunnel for several hours that was really a terrible migraine headache. Sometimes I think I have a daughter (I have a great friend)now that writes fiction in rhymes. I can only see her if she wears purple. She is sitting in front of an old school typewriter from the 1980’s tapping away like crazy.
My other children have left me and are orbiting the earth at a very low altitude. My phone beeps a strange warning tone when they are close by and I go outside and wave frantically at their slow-motion-rocket ship. I think I can see them from a round window on the side of the ship but they look like they are in a fishbowl.
When I finally emerge from the migraine tunnel, it is like I am reborn. I am so happy the pain is over that I sign on FaceBook and “like” everything I see. (even though yesterday, I hated it!)
In my fresh new layers of skin I walk into a bubbly room and find boxes and boxes stacked up filled with photos. This makes me very happy but my smile needs support braces. My hair is so long I have to make a ponytail with a rubber band.foreveryoung
Many of the photos are black and white’s of the mighty ten. I scan a couple of them in and try to “fix” them in Photoshop but I can’t. Whatever I try to do digitally is met by an error message. This I don’t understand and becomes a nightmare in the dream. It is like running in slow motion from a very fast monster.
There are no photos of our family all together at once. Zero. I notice there is a total family shot from 1912 of our great grandfathers family all together. There is nothing of our mom and dad and all ten children at the same time. I search through every box and…..nothing. We missed that opportunity somewhere along the way. We were all so very busy and dad was always working that we never found time to get all together and take a photo. Maybe later, in heaven.

The Hartmann's. Jersey City NJ.

The Hartmann’s. Jersey City NJ.

I wish we weren’t adults anymore. We should be in pajamas sitting around the gold couch on the gold shag carpet goofing off. Nobody is arguing about anything. Nobody is hanging up on anybody. Money doesn’t matter. Nobody is addicted. Nobody is sick. Nobody is dead. “Gilligans Island” is on TV. Chocolate milk Boscoe and Marshmallow Fluff sandwiches. Laughing. And everyone is there. Everyone. Aunt Gerry suddenly walks in and she is holding a Kodak Instamatic She smiles and says ; “Let me take a photo of this lovely family”

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