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Brought up Jul 8, 2014

Dreams and Memories

I had planned to write earlier tonight, but time with the little fella is impossible to pass on these days. I can not explain what time with my grandson means to me. The words just don't seem to be enough, no matter what I use. I got to babysit him while his mom and dad went to the store. Fed him his bottle, watched his little face as he dreamed. Making memories.

Good way to head into what I had wanted to write about, huh?

Dreams and memories.

I had this entry all organized in my head til the afternoon, not sure if I can do it justice but here goes.

I had a strange dream last night or this morning that has stayed with me all day. I dreamed that I had met the mother of an old friend and classmate of mine from high school. Part of the strangeness is that I have never met the woman, and in the dream she was a vague image. Another odd thing is that this friend has been dead for 26 years.

In the dream, the mom and I are visiting at her home, remembering her son. She leaves the room, and I walk across it to look at pictures she has sitting on a table. I pick up one of the pictures, looking at the man in it but don't recognize him. She comes back in and says it was taken just before he died, and she still misses him. It is her son, my friend, but not the face I remember at all.

The dream made me wonder about memories. I have read that 4 different people will describe the same event 4 different ways. It made me wonder if all memories are like that. There are events from my teens that are vague or gone, but talking with those that were around then, those were very important to them, and I have vivid memories that are vague to others the same way.

It makes me wonder just how our minds choose what is important and what isn't. Why are some memories filed away and trotted out from time to time just as crisp as if they happened last week, and others vague or gone completely?

Anyway, the dream has me wanting to find a good picture of my friend just to see if the dream was for real, or if my memory of that sweet boy's face is accurate.

It also makes me wonder what my grandson will retain and what will be vague memories for him when he is my age. I want to be one of the nice, crisp, vivid memories he trots out from time to time and smiles over.


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