When I was growing up, I had a recurring dream of running, running, running, I was going to die, and at the last possible second, with danger, death and evil practically nipping at my heels, I flew.
Sometimes, I would dream that all my teeth were falling out.
I repeatedly dreamed that my house was on the Christmas Tour but no one had told me.
Good times.
In a few years falling asleep brought a little more hope. I found a tunnel in my basement that led right into a wonderful department store. Another time, I found an estate sale where exquisite items were selling for a quarter.
Once, when my car was surrounded by wolves, I was able to escape because I had a giant box of Milkbones with me.
But the best was yet to come. I was on vacation with my friend KB in Czechoslovakia. We were at a street corner and needed to cross, but the street was a sheet of ice. I took her hand, and we flew across.
Years later, the day after KB died, I took a nap and found myself in a baby’s clothing store. I saw KB, but I couldn’t seem to catch up to her. When I finally came close to her, she turned and handed me a cup engraved with the words “All is well.”
Then came the dream I cherish. I was in a tower, looking out a window. I saw a light coming closer and closer until it came into the room. I knew it was God. And then God turned into Claude Raines. He put his arms around me and said, “Have a wonderful life. I’ll see you in Paradise.”
I don’t expect a better dream than that.
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