We stood in the middle
bedroom. Why we visited in that room I can't tell you. I was sitting on the
corner of the muted, yellow colored dresser belonging to my child, the
only piece of furniture left in the house. The plaster had fallen off the
walls and ceiling and was on the floor so that as we walked on it made a
crunching sound. Our minds told us each room was like this.
Suddenly an apparition
stood before us. The woman wasn't like a ghost though. Her appearance was
very real and alive. She was dressed in the same white dress worn in one of
the antique photographs I owned. It was long with a length going all the way
to her feet. The style must have been around the early 1900's. What a pretty
woman she was. Her petite size made her seem more like a girl rather than a
woman but as she spoke I was aware she wasn't a child.
“What has happened to
my brother's house?” She asked the question while standing there with her
hands on her hips. “All his beautiful furniture, the bathroom appliances,
everything gone. I want to know why?”
“It's a long story.” I
wanted to explain but there wasn't an easy answer to her inquiry. My own
manner seemed coarse and heavy compared to her light, joyful demeanor. Even
in her anger there was a lovely way she had.
“Well, someone is going
to answer for this destruction. There was no reason to ruin something the
family worked so many years to build. Why Dad will be furious when he sees
this.” With that she turned away and called, “Dad! Come in this house.
Look! See what they have done to your son's place. I know he's out there,”
she muttered. The tiny little woman was turning to stomp back over the
“That dream! I had
that dream again. The old ranch house. Every time I have it the
circumstances are different.” The dreams were always having something to do
with the old house. It has been a long time since I dreamed of that place
like it was when we were children.
“You know it was
strange. Aunt called her father like he was there. That was so eerig. I woke
up immediately. Some thing in my mind made me want to wake up. The thought
of seeing Grandsir was just more than I wanted in a dream.
“Why? Why do I dream of
the ranch house over and over?” I had asked my husband the same question
“Probably because your
friend called from over in that area. You were thinking about her and your
mind just traveled on over to the old place where you grew up.”
“I'm so glad you can
explain it away for me so easily. To dream of my aunt, Dad's sister is very
mysterious, too. Actually, I don't think I've ever had such a long
conversation with her and certainly I did not know her when she was that
youthful. I think dreams are sometimes just a way the mind deals with a
problem. Of course, I hate seeing things as they are. Dad and Uncle are gone
with their life's work blown to the wind. My mind must be calling up my aunt
to help me deal with the outrage I myself feel. It was rather a good
feeling to have someone else in the family with the same feeling I have.
Heaven knows, no one else seems to care. Even though it was just a dream it
seemed so real.