A Dream Come True

For several years I had house dreams. In those dreams I wandered through houses, discovering the rooms, the views from the windows. Some were welcoming. Some were hostile. Some were passing strange.

Two of my house dreams remain clearly in my mind, and the same character appeared in both of them.

In the first dream I walked into a closet built into the eaves of my 1920’s bungalow on Rhode Island Street, discovered a door I had never noticed before, opened it and walked into a different world. I walked down a rather long hall and came to a door on the right. I opened that door and beheld a spider web-festooned courtroom. Beside a bank of south-facing windows stood an old woman with wild white hair. She turned her gaze on me. Her presence and her gaze so shocked and intimidated me that I turned back into the hallway, closing the courtroom door behind me.

Shaken, I continued down the hallway and came into another south-facing room, flooded with sunlight. I looked out the window into a rural scene, a meadow with willow trees scattered along the banks of a narrow stream. The only object in the room was an old Singer treadle sewing machine. One of the drawers of its cabinet was open and spools of thread were spilling over its edges. I felt utterly at peace.

Some time later the old woman appeared in another house dream. I was walking though an elegant country home from the kitchen, through the dining room and then into a large, marble-floored foyer. In the center sat a round mahogany table with a vase of flowers sitting in its center.

One chair sat beside the table, occupied by the old woman with wild white hair. I recognized her instantly and was again shocked and intimidated by her presence.

She looked directly into my eyes and said, “You don’t have to be afraid of me.”

Only several years later did I realize that the old woman was myself and that I did not need to fear becoming her.

Only today, when I looked in a mirror to comb my hair did I realize that I have, at last, become her. It’s a dream come true.

Copyright 2013 by Shirley Domer