My best friend came by for a visit last night. Actually, I visited him. I needed him to assist in finding something illegal.
I had a dream about my deceased buddy.
I woke this morning thinking about the many times my deceased loved ones have appeared within my dreams. The conversations that we share. The usual strange aspects and details of our visits. The situations. The relation between the previous days’ conversations and experiences, somehow weaved within the evening’s sleeping mind.
In my dream, I remember contacting a woman whom I once knew. I was searching for “everyday.” This is a name that my group of friends and I had for marijuana in years past because it was an everyday necessity for us. I somehow ended up in a very small room with a little twin size bed in it. On the far side of the bed sat two chairs. In one, my buddy sat. The other was for me.
This was a setting much like my buddy’s old room. When I would visit him many years back before really knowing him, the bed and chairs were present within the controlled environment for purchases. He was the dealer on the far side of the bed, while his associate (cousin) would sit in the chair near him. I was instructed to sit in a chair on the other side of the bed. Product, paraphernalia and money was laid out on the bed.
In my dream, I was the one sitting next to him.
The woman I had contacted directed me to the room where I had met up with my friend. He had to make a few phone calls to find something. I remember him getting product, and apparently someone had shown up to deliver, but I cannot remember that part. He presented the product, I paid, we smoked and talked a bit, and I remember walking to the door to leave. I vividly remember looking back at him when he had said, “good seeing you man.”
I didn’t hug my buddy. I was so nervous and excited to get the marijuana in the dream that I had forgotten to do or say anything to him that would make him feel appreciated. I only used him for my selfish desire. In the dream, I didn’t realize that I would wake and think about the sorrowful regret of not hugging my friend while he was there again. I didn’t think about the impact that it would make outside of my deep stillness of slumber. I had another unexplained encounter with a friend. A friend who was laid to rest twelve years ago.
My dream. Maybe it’s the season? Maybe it’s the memories of another friend I had written about yesterday? Maybe it’s the old god that I used to carry around in a bag and smoke everyday? Maybe? I have buried so many people within the autumn season. I still crave a buzz from time to time. I still miss the old drug dealer who would have become my brother-in-law. I was considering marrying his sister at the time. We had the deepest conversations, and we were like brothers. He spent a lot of his last months at my home. We would have the deepest conversations about life. We would talk about the Lord, even though we were not really trying very hard to live for Him. We learned about each other’s pain. Deep within us both were unbearable measures of pain that were being covered up with drugs and alcohol. We would only mask those things with our drug of choice, coddling our demons. We never knew how to let go, so we supported each other as we held on.
Dreams are something that I have never understood. I’m sure I could study more, but it is something that I embrace at face value. They bring on some pretty unusual, pleasurable, sorrowful, painful and wonderful memories and feelings. That’s okay though. I wake up and return to my reality.
It is a blessing to know that I woke up again to see another day. It is also a blessing to be able to see my friend, even though I didn’t get to hug him. Even though I was selfish. I really pray to God I get to see all of my people again.