Thursday, January 7, 2010
An Orthodox Dream, Version 3
Yesterday during the wee hours, I had three very short dreams that took place in an empty Orthodox church. In each I was swinging a live censer, and singing softly in a language I knew, but couldn’t understand. The dreams were basically identical, except that as the last one ended, I could see my grandfather standing in the dim light near the far wall.
My grandfather died twenty years ago on the sixth day of January, the same day Christmas is celebrated in the Armenian Church. He was ninety-three. My aunt, his daughter, my father’s sister, was also born on that day.
I woke up with this thought: “I’ve either had this dream three times, or I’ve dreamed it on three consecutive nights.”
And so the years go by, all of it real, all of it dreamed, all of it true until we try to take it apart to serve our own purposes, and to allay our deepest fears.
Recently Linked: A friendly welcome to Brenna Barton, and my thanks for signing on as a follower of Recently Banned Literature.
In the Forum: the meringue of beers.