A Happy Dream

Last night I dreamed again about Zach.   I understand dreams to be stories created in my unconscious mind.   This happens to be my world-view and it works for me.  In my dreams, Zach is quite vivid.   I feel close to him.  Through these stories my dreams tell, his tone of voice and mannerisms are how I remember him.   Apparently, I needed to tell myself a happy story.

Zach and I were in a busy town, I don't know where.   It was some kind of festival.   We were talking and chatting.  Zach was happy and talking a mile a minute.   He was about ten or eleven, I suppose.   He was asking me questions about church and different religions.  He made a joke suitable for a ten year old, although I can't remember it now.   He was interested in participating in the confirmation class.  He wanted me to buy a fancy pencil and have the name of my congregation engraved on it, First Presbyterian of Elizabethton.   It was a happy day together.  

This could be a wish-fulfillment dream.  But the difference between this dream and others I have had that include Zach is that I woke up happy.  I didn't cling to him or anything or cry.   As I thought about it throughout the day and even as the dream faded, I felt the possibility that I may be able one day to see pictures of him and tell stories about him and have it not be so painful.   It isn't that I won't experience pain, but this dream was a green shoot of hope that one day I may integrate his life into my memory and that he will be present with me and that feeling will include joy as well as sorrow.