Dear Deena: 12/17/16

12/17/16

Dear Deena,

I had a dream with you in it last night. I wanted to write this letter this morning with the dream fresher in my mind; I had to get ready for work.

There was a massage office with the same or almost the same entrance as the SWIHA massage clinic, only this was a privately owned business. Several people who had graduated from SWIHA were working there. I went in to check out the rooms and potentially work there too. Gilad worked there.

Each room was huge – the size of a bedroom. Each room was decorated in its own style and pattern, but all the rooms looked like the decorations were based on very old styles, like middle ages: velvet draperies and soft materials against stark spaces. Gilad pointed to a room in the back and told me I needed to check out that room; it was the best. I imagined it was because it had the best view. Without looking at the room yet, I knew the window would face the only area without any buildings or other man-made things to obstruct the trees and grass.

I didn't get a chance to look all the way at the room. Something changed in the dream and there was some commotion with the people who worked there – most of whom I knew from SWIHA someway or another. Iko was arriving and she had brought her two dogs (in real life she only has one). Then, I needed to go somewhere. I was driving and my car started freaking out like it was breaking down. A light on the dash came on that looked like the globe. The car started beeping at me. I was freaking out a little. And suddenly I needed to go back to where I was.

I got back (was it still the massage place?) and you were there, dead, on the ground. There was blood coming from your mouth pooled on the ground. I think I freaked out again. I imagine that I did. I don't remember much after that. When I woke, I know I was trying to get in touch with the feeling I had during the dream. I always think that's what's important about dreams: what feelings they conjure and where those feelings exist in your real life. Everything else is just symbolism

As I write this, you just jumped up next to me and began licking my arm. I love you so much.

So, I was trying to contact the feeling. I actually think I was enraged in the dream. I didn't specifically recall grief or mourning from the dream. Rage. Was it because I didn't completely listen to my inner knowing? Was it just the first stage of grief? Was it because someone did something to you? Was it because of neglect? These are things I'd probably be able to answer if I had written this first thing in the morning. C'est la vie.

I love you. I said to you the other day that you are sensitive. You had an interesting reaction to that. You are sensitive, my darling. I love you.

Shannon