I was a teenager on a trip with a church group. We went to this huge multi-level building with rooms like hotel rooms, and six of us were assigned a room. This building had curving halls that all looked the same and none of the rooms were numbered. We got in our room, I found my bed, and put down my things.
The next day, everyone goes out, and when I go out, I realize I don't have a key to get back into the room. I've also left everything but my purse in the room. I can't find anyone that was in my group.
I go to the information desk and am told since I don't know the room number, they can't give me a key. She did say there was an extra bed with another group in another room if I wanted that. I get in there, and you can tell those girls did not want me there. I go to bed with no one speaking to me. The next evening when I come back to go to bed, another girl has put her things on my bed. I actually tell her it's ok. I'll sleep on the end of the bed. She says no, it's her bed. The other girls say they know her, she came late, and it's her bed because she is with their group.
Now I have no place to stay, and only my purse. I go into a snack bar, go to the counter, and ask if there is someplace I can use the phone. The guy behind the counter points to a telephone right behind me on the wall. I dig through my bag, find my wallet, get out a quarter, put my wallet back into my bag, and turn to use the phone. I can't remember anyone's phone number to call. I realize all my numbers are in my cell phone which I don't have. Then I turn back around to find the guy at the counter walking away and I notice my wallet is lying out of my bag, open on the counter, and all my money is gone. Now I'm frantic and I wake up feeling like I've been beaten up all night.
I have a version of this dream several nights a week. Once I was on a cruise ship with my family and got separated from them and couldn't get into my room. Once I was in my house but there were so many people I couldn't walk. Once I was being run out of a hotel room and couldn't find all my things to get them together to leave.
The therapist says this is my body's way of handling anxiety. I have no idea. All I know is it would be nice to go to sleep and dream of something peaceful and pleasant. Instead of this crap.
We took my granddaughter to see my dad. I call him Daddy (It's a Southern thing.) My kids call him Papa. So here is Papa and my daughter in 1978.
This is my dad and my granddaughter in 2008.
3 comments:
Strange dream. It bothers me to think about it.
Those are great photos...priceless. I had seen the bottom one on Claire's photo site and wondered if that was your father.
Thanks for the long, much needed talk yesterday. It is good to talk to someone who has been there. Keeps a girl from feeling so all alone.
Are those the same overalls?
Amy, honestly, they may be! He used to work for Morton-Thiokol testing rocket engines. When he was fifty, he said he'd saved enough to retire. He bought a farm, stopped wearing his work clothes, started wearing overalls, and has worn them pretty much ever since, unless he has to go a funeral or a lawyer's office. He dresses up for those. But not for doctor's. :-)
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