Saturday, January 20


So, I had this dream last night that I cannot get out of my head. It was perfect and beautiful and part of me feels that by writing it down I'll jinx myself and the rest of me knows how stupid that is. It was affecting though, in a way that dreams rarely are for me. I keep catching glimpses of it out of the corner of my eye today.

I woke up curled in bed between my husband and my dog. The bed was my dream bed that I have drooling over for two years now and will never be able to afford. A wrought iron four poster king. Beautiful. The dog was a chocolate lab and my husband was a man I have never seen before in my life-- which is weird for me. I don't usually see faces in my dreams. I woke up because the sun was coming in through a slit in the curtains and hitting me right in the eyes. Usually that sort of thing would put me into and *extremely* foul mood but I rolled over and looked at my hubby (who was gorgeous, by the way) I realized it was Sunday and somehow that made everything better. Suddenly I was downstairs in my kitchen letting the dog out into the back yard ( I had a beautiful wildflower garden) and putting some coffee on. There were three newspapers on my front stoop and copper pots hanging from the ceiling in my kitchen. Seriously. I had bagels with cream cheese and lox and all the trimmings (capers, tomatoes, red onions, etc) and a steaming pot of coffee on a table on my back porch. I was curled up in a blanket reading the paper and caffeinating myself when he walked through the back door and smiled at me. He just stood there for a moment looking at me and the table, the yard, the dog and smiling like a man does when he is truly happy and then he said "Come look." and held out his hand to me. I took it and went to stand beside him and what I saw took my breath away. The back yard of our house was bordered with evergreens but there was gap about three trees wide where we could see down a hill to the harbor and to downtown Seattle beyond it. Did I mention I lived in Seattle? Anyway there were sheets of rain moving slowly but steadily towards us but the light in front of the storm was so strong that it looked like a curtain being drawn across the bay. The dog came racing back up onto the porch as the rain approached and we went back to our table- the breakfast and the papers. It felt so perfect to be sitting there reading the arts section and listening to the rain on the roof- watching it nourish my garden.

This was how I have always wanted my life to be. I don't know if it was a gift from my subconscious or a glimpse of my future but I am grateful. It was so real that I can still smell the rain coming and feel my hand in his. Whatever it was it has given me strength and hope and yet somehow at the same time has made me feel more lonely than ever. God I want that so much. The pretty little house with the garden and the dog. Someone to love and trust that would see the beauty in an approaching storm and likes to spend Sunday mornings reading the paper. Someone who could see through the sarcasm and smart ass facade and know that this was all I really wanted. For now I'll just have to be grateful for the dream.