The Way It Might Have Been

And did we have a good time? You betcha. It would be terrific to remember the details. Here’s what I know.

Sometimes I feel like the old Victorian beach mansion we lived in for a summer. While I am sleeping, my body stays awake figuring out how it’s going to fall apart in the morning. It’s clear that I have been asleep, because I have been dreaming the same dream every night for the past two weeks. This dream is particularly weird and at times frightening, so I will gladly share it with people who are either weird or like to be frightened. We can only assume that if you’re still reading the blob you must be, at least, a little weird.

The dream begins in Boonton NJ, at the house in which my mother lived for 56 years. We sold the house two years ago when Mom moved to Washington State. Anyway, before we signed final papers and closed on the sale, we went into the basement and taped our four pictures in a place where no one would ever find them. (Editor’s note: I have no idea WHERE she put them.) In this way, we could remain part of the spirit of what was, for ever and ever. And that’s how the dream begins…

We (both Jeff’s family and mine and mom and dad) are at the house. It’s some kind of holiday –maybe Christmas or Thanksgiving, which we traditionally spent at the house. The house is no longer ours. We are there, unbeknown to the new owners, or anyone else we may have known. In other words, we are living in our old house, the new owners are somewhere else (we have no idea where) except I was worried that they would come and find out that, like a bad dream, we had come back, to spend who knows how long, as uninvited guests. I knew we were uninvited because I was afraid they would come home and have us arrested. Jeff kept telling me not to worry, that they couldn’t have us arrested because we still belonged there. In my heart I knew it was a lie – but still we didn’t leave. Oh, and dad walking and perfectly fine –which had not been true for 45 years.

In addition to my concern about trespassing, Jordan was about nine and she was dating someone who was at least fifteen. And no matter what I did or said, she refused to listen to me. She got all dressed up (with make-up and high heals) and chose to ignore my every plea. Devin was also small and she jumped around yelling something about how she was going to get in trouble, so Seth said he would follow her on her dates to make sure she was safe. The fifteen year old, who didn’t seem to be anyone we knew, came to the house to pick Jordan up, but he had to sneak in the front door (the one we never used), so none of the neighbors would see that we were there. I have no idea how we managed to hide, but it was, after all a dream.

If I knew someone who interpreted dreams, I would ask them to help me figure out the meaning of these repetitive fantasies because the not knowing is a bit disturbing – but I don’t, so all insights (as long as they are not sexual) are welcome and appreciated.

In the meantime, (while I’m waiting for analysis) and in order to pretend that I’m not lazy and without imagination, I’ll give it a guess. Here goes: Way down deep inside, I think we shouldn’t have sold the house because in our souls we are totally New Jersey. And now we have no where to be when we visit. Of course, we don’t have anyone to visit, except mom, but she no longer lived there --that’s beside the point. It could be that I ate some bad mandel bread and it has stayed with me for the last two weeks. Or it might be my turmoil about where to live. Nonsense. What does any of that have to do with the fact that Jordan was dating at nine and more importantly, she didn’t listen to me?

Oh my, oh my, it’s too bad I don’t have a better imagination because think of all the fabulous characters with whom I might have slept over the last two weeks. Never mind, I already did that when I was young. We’re just sayin’…. Iris