It had to do with a visit to my great aunt “auntie Carol” who is now living at the same assisted living center in Idaho Falls where grammy spent her last years. Uncle Johnny passed away about a month ago, and I thought it would be really nice to pay her a visit. Interestingly, until I put it in writing I didn’t realize just how often that side of the family liked to use terms of endearment ending in “ee”.
Anyways, when I got to the center, auntie Carol looked a little different. Okay, very different. You see, she was a blue egg. Still had the same hairdo, and basic facial features, but in all other respects she had the appearance of a blue Easter egg. The cool thing was, she was the fastest egg I’d ever laid eyes on. She could do circles around all of the other old folks, and she didn’t need a wheel chair or anything. Just did one of those wobbles like in the cartoons. I actually had to yell “Hey auntie Carol, how are you?” to get her to even notice me. Fortunately she did, and immediately stopped and gave me a big smile.
Well, apparently on this visit, Grandma Waite and some others from the “other side of the family” were with me. When auntie Carol stopped, she had been about to zip between Grandma’s legs. Unfortunately, at that precise moment, Grandma dropped something that landed on top of auntie Carol. Not sure if it was shawl, or a pillow, or what, but took auntie Carol completely out of the field of view. Just then, Grandma stepped back and was about to step on what had dropped. I yelled out “STOP!, STOP!”, but it was too late, and Grandma stepped on auntie Carol.
It wasn’t an especially sad funeral, as everybody kind of knew auntie Carol had been close to her time. It was good to see the family and what not, but, can’t deny the sense of awkwardness was palpable. Everybody knew it was an accident, but poor Grandma…she kept saying to everybody “who knew she was an egg?...who knew she was an egg?”, and there was me with the feeling “if only I had let her zip around in peace.” And….there was a definite sense that “the other side of the family” was less than welcome. Fortunately, as far as deaths go, it was about as clean and painless as they come. Apparently auntie Carol was one of those blown out eggs, and there was no gooey mess left behind.
So, that was the dream worth sharing. Interestingly, it was immediately followed by a dream involving a zombie who wanted to use my bathroom. Apparently, there was this zombie who had been "living" in my bedroom closet for years, and after so much time “saving up” he was finally ready for a bowel movement. I can honestly state this particular zombie bore no resemblance whatsoever to any person (living, dead, or both) I have ever met, and I had no qualms about refusing access to my facilities and insisting (despite vociferous protestations from the zombie that such places were unsanitary) that he leave his mother load of zombie stink at a nearby public restroom.
Yes, even a zombie version of Sigmund Freud would likely take years to analyze those dreams, but the fact is…reflecting on them has been a lot of fun, and I’m glad there are enough crazy things going on in my subconscious for me to be able to explore such alternative realities...
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