I had a lucid dream the other night that is perhaps writing about. It started in a new mountain cabin being built by a friend of mine that died last fall. He wasn’t there, but I knew who had built it. It was a nice “woodsy” sort of place, with stairs leading up to a sleeping loft. I was casually inspecting the workmanship, thinking that he had done a better job than I would have expected (I wasn’t aware of him having woodworking skills or experience), but the design of the stairs was not so great. No handrail, not a big enough landing at the bottom, too steep – that sort of thing. While looking the place over my brother (who died about two years ago) came in to visit and we discussed the building a bit. He “comes to visit” me now and then, so that wasn’t really so out of the ordinary – but it did help me realize that I was in a dream and in the realm of the dead. My brother told me that our friend Rocke was in the other room if I wanted to go talk to him, which I did. He was in his old comfortable easy chair, just kind of chilling out. He seemed quite pleased that I can come to visit, and then told me about the heart attack that killed him. He described it as mostly a lot of pressure, not much pain, and he wasn’t frightened because he was ready for something to come along at some point. He seemed quite content and in good sprites (pun intended). About that time a young girl (perhaps five years old) came into the room to talk to him. He excused himself to give her his full attention, so I said my goodbyes and added that I looked forward to seeing him again. He said that was unlikely, he just stopped by for a little bit to let me know that all is well with him.

So there, yet another odd dream about meeting up with lost friends and relatives. I have had these after each of the most important people in my life died. My older brother, my mother, my father, and the brother that was in this dream. I suppose it is all in my head, just my mind saying goodbye to loved ones – but it is always so comforting to see them, get a chance to say my goodbyes without too much drama happening, and that they seem at peace (or happy) with the situation. These dreams aren’t “normal” fleeting dreams where things keep changing and all that. They are solid, lucid, full color dreams that I recall for many years afterward. The first that I had with my brother included being in a rose garden, smelling the strong bouquet of the flowers. Since then I have heard “dream experts” claim that it is impossible to smell in dreams – I know that is in fact false because I did it.

I don’t put too much stock on these dreams. I don’t think that I am somehow talking to the dead, but I don’t discount that possibility either. Whatever is happening is a “real” experience, one that I like and helps me accept the passing of loved ones. Is the event somehow an experience of a “real” thing? Who knows, and I don’t think it actually matters much. I am certain that our experiences of life are by and large dreams that we create in our mind’s eye – so these aren’t all that much different no matter how I consider them.