Saturday, June 7, 2008

Row Your Boat Gently

"Sweet dreams of robots and cookies tonight, guys," I said as I tucked the kids into bed last night with hugs and kisses. A couple of hours later, I was in bed, too.

I drifted off and dreamed that my grandmother, who is currently living with cancer rather than dying from it, was rowing a boat and I was in the back of it, rowing along with her. Our little boat seemed to drift and glide with only a little guidance from our oars. We pulled the paddles in many times and let ourselves be pulled along with the current, which seemed to go up and down over hills, like a slow water roller coaster. In a clearing, I saw what looked like ships coming toward us. But upon closer inspection, they weren't ships at all.

"Grandma, look!" I exclaimed. "Cupcakes!"

Three enormous, Titanic-sized cupcakes were coasting down the river--which was really the ocean, because it was a dream. They were white fluffy cupcakes with sprinkles on top, and they sailed through a lifting fog. Behind them were three bowls of ice cream. I could see cherries on top.

Suddenly I realized I had left the boat and was struggling to swim. My body was tired and I felt like I was going to sleep. I didn't want to bother Grandma with this news, but I decided to say something in case I drowned.

"I'm sinking," I said calmly.

"Well then get back in the boat!" she said, moving an oar to make room for me to climb in.

I woke up to a bird cheep-cheeping outside my window. The fog in my little neighborhood by the water is thick this morning.

I have had many dreams with Grandma in them throughout my life, including one in black and white several years ago in which we were reporters together at the Worcester Telegram (she was a writer there after college), huddled together under a desk during a tornado that ripped through town (something she experienced in 1953 while working at the paper). But last night's dream was something special, since my children had fun at her house yesterday after their half-day of school. They love going to their great-grandmother's house. They love her yard and listening to her play the piano. They love her. We all do.

I can't wait to tell Grandma about this dream. She'll get a kick out of it.

I'm 35, and I dream of floating sweets. That's AWESOME. Kind of funny that I dreamt about gliding across the water, too, since I posted that Bad Brains song yesterday. Ha.

Happy Saturday. We're headed off to a foggy little league game.

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