My latest dream or out-of-body-experience- Claudia

[Guest guest]

tara jacoby <tjmassage7777 wrote: This dream I had was about uncle

Dennis.

I'm not sure now, if it was a dream or an out-of-body-experience.

Since I don't have the heart to question them [Aunt Helen and cousins] about

the details- during this difficult time, I will simply keep it to myself.

 

It begins like this:

I was at Aunt Helen and Uncle Dennis's house. I was not in the physical form.

I looked as I do now, except transparent. I was also unseen. I was noticing all

of this as I seemingly appeared in their house, and as I 'landed' there, I

slowly became

aware of my surroundings, and aware of my reality as a non physical being.

I noticed, as I 'felt' the air for energy..and turned toward the closest

being- that

I was standing in front of their dining room table. My aunt was sitting at the

table.

She is always optimistic and cheerful, but this time she was sitting all alone,

in

darkness. She was holding something that looked like a really big card. She

just held it in her hands, and never shifted her eyes from it. She looked as if

she was in deep thought, as her eyes continued to helplessly stare at it. I

looked down a bit, to see her face. It held a look of overwhelming pain..one

which cannot be expressed. I felt it, and I thought I would fall to the floor

with the sadness. I realized however, that the non physical body reacts

differently to such pain and sorrow, than the physical body- and although I

still had the weak sensation, I did not fall. I wondered if he had died..if

that's what she was experiencing. The way she held the card, and the way she

stared passed it, and the immense pain which emanated from her reminded me of my

reaction to Mischief's passing.

I wanted to see what she was looking at. Without even thinking, I turned my

palms upward and raised my arms a bit, and I lifted up from where I 'stood'. As

I thought of where I wanted to be- I was simply there. I had shifted to

behind her chair, so that I could look on what she was holding. It was a card,

but it was also like a memorial. It was very sad to look at, and I could feel a

sensation of pain and warmth flow over my face. She made this card with my

cousins. She was now putting some finishing touches around the perimeter- some

fancy stitches with colored thread. The card was I think, material. It seemed to

be a fairly stiff kind of fabric. Each cousin had made part of it, complete with

their own memories of favorite times with their dad, and a little bit on what he

has meant to them. It kind of reminded me of a patchwork quilt, what with the

material and the pieces done by each one, and at last sewn together and stitched

fancily around the edges. She seemed to be

finding peace in creating this..it was her escape.

 

I thought, ok..his birthday has passed- it's not a birthday card. There is no

special occasion right now..so what is the purpose of this card.

I thought, has he died? Then I wondered, why would she make a card for him if

he has passed, and why would she make a memorial for him if he's still alive?

It just didn't make sense to me.What was she doing?

I wondered how cold she must have grown from this hurt..from enduring all of

this..to be able to spend her time making this memorial while he's still

alive..to be able to detach herself so much that she feels as though he's

already gone.

 

Then I began to wonder if he was still with us.

Once again, I shifted my position, by raising my arms and palms. I was suddenly

in the room in which he was staying. It was not his own room, but it was

transformed into a comfy version of his room. It was more convenient for him to

be in this room. I saw him lying in the bed. He was very weak, and still- but he

was still living. I thought, " How could you?..How could you waste away your last

days with him while you make that project, as if he's already gone? How could

you be so cold, and how could you leave him to waste away- all alone in that

room, while you spend your time doing this? " I couldn't understand, and it made

me both angry and sad. I was standing near to him, but he couldn't see me.

Suddenly, the door opened, and a procession of cousins, holding the card and

lead by my aunt..filed through and crowded around one side of his bed.

I thought, " No, you can't..you can't give him that card and make him feel like

you want him to be gone! How could you? You can't, you just can't! "

I was sad, so I shifted my position to behind the other side of the bed- away

from them. They handed the card to him and kissed him on the head. He smiled as

he read it, and as he looked at the craftsmanship used to create it. He held the

card, and they held him. As it turned out- my aunt had decided she didn't like

the way in which- at a funeral, the family tells the crowd what a wonderful

person their loved one was..only the loved one is already gone. She wanted him

to hear it while his body was still alive. She decided to create something that

he could hold and look at, and which they could always keep..which would depict

the kind of love they shared, and the greatness of his giving nature, which they

loved so much..and the memories held dear by each one. He shed a few happy, yet

bitter tears. I felt like an intruder..this was a private family time..and I

didn't belong. I felt sadness for no belonging, but I knew this was a special

time that they needed to have alone

with him. This time, I walked out..slowly, with my head down..trying to sneak

away without being seen, or getting in the way and causing a disturbance in the

midst of their special day. I 'landed' [suddenly arrived] in my bed, and my face

was wet with tears.

And that's the end of my 'dream'. I'm still not sure if it was a dream or an

out-of-body-experience. My aunt has always made craft with her children. She is

a very crafty person, and I think she finds peace in that.

Love and blessings,

Tara

 

 

 

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[Guest guest]

Thanks for taking the time to write that Tara... That was very nice to

read.

 

Blessings to you and all your family...

Paul

 

 

>tara jacoby <tjmassage7777

>

>

> Re: My latest dream or

>out-of-body-experience- Claudia

>Wed, 9 May 2007 02:11:00 -0700 (PDT)

>

>

>

>tara jacoby <tjmassage7777 wrote: This dream I had was about

>uncle Dennis.

>I'm not sure now, if it was a dream or an out-of-body-experience.

>Since I don't have the heart to question them [Aunt Helen and cousins]

>about

>the details- during this difficult time, I will simply keep it to myself.

>

>It begins like this:

>I was at Aunt Helen and Uncle Dennis's house. I was not in the physical

>form.

>I looked as I do now, except transparent. I was also unseen. I was noticing

>all of this as I seemingly appeared in their house, and as I 'landed'

>there, I slowly became

>aware of my surroundings, and aware of my reality as a non physical being.

>I noticed, as I 'felt' the air for energy..and turned toward the closest

>being- that

>I was standing in front of their dining room table. My aunt was sitting at

>the table.

>She is always optimistic and cheerful, but this time she was sitting all

>alone, in

>darkness. She was holding something that looked like a really big card.

>She just held it in her hands, and never shifted her eyes from it. She

>looked as if she was in deep thought, as her eyes continued to helplessly

>stare at it. I looked down a bit, to see her face. It held a look of

>overwhelming pain..one which cannot be expressed. I felt it, and I thought

>I would fall to the floor with the sadness. I realized however, that the

>non physical body reacts differently to such pain and sorrow, than the

>physical body- and although I still had the weak sensation, I did not

>fall. I wondered if he had died..if that's what she was experiencing. The

>way she held the card, and the way she stared passed it, and the immense

>pain which emanated from her reminded me of my reaction to Mischief's

>passing.

>I wanted to see what she was looking at. Without even thinking, I turned my

>palms upward and raised my arms a bit, and I lifted up from where I

>'stood'. As I thought of where I wanted to be- I was simply there. I had

>shifted to behind her chair, so that I could look on what she was holding.

>It was a card, but it was also like a memorial. It was very sad to look at,

>and I could feel a sensation of pain and warmth flow over my face. She made

>this card with my cousins. She was now putting some finishing touches

>around the perimeter- some fancy stitches with colored thread. The card was

>I think, material. It seemed to be a fairly stiff kind of fabric. Each

>cousin had made part of it, complete with their own memories of favorite

>times with their dad, and a little bit on what he has meant to them. It

>kind of reminded me of a patchwork quilt, what with the material and the

>pieces done by each one, and at last sewn together and stitched fancily

>around the edges. She seemed to be

> finding peace in creating this..it was her escape.

>

>I thought, ok..his birthday has passed- it's not a birthday card. There is

>no special occasion right now..so what is the purpose of this card.

>I thought, has he died? Then I wondered, why would she make a card for him

>if he has passed, and why would she make a memorial for him if he's still

>alive?

>It just didn't make sense to me.What was she doing?

>I wondered how cold she must have grown from this hurt..from enduring all

>of this..to be able to spend her time making this memorial while he's still

>alive..to be able to detach herself so much that she feels as though he's

>already gone.

>

>Then I began to wonder if he was still with us.

>Once again, I shifted my position, by raising my arms and palms. I was

>suddenly in the room in which he was staying. It was not his own room, but

>it was transformed into a comfy version of his room. It was more convenient

>for him to be in this room. I saw him lying in the bed. He was very weak,

>and still- but he was still living. I thought, " How could you?..How could

>you waste away your last days with him while you make that project, as if

>he's already gone? How could you be so cold, and how could you leave him

>to waste away- all alone in that room, while you spend your time doing

>this? " I couldn't understand, and it made me both angry and sad. I was

>standing near to him, but he couldn't see me.

>Suddenly, the door opened, and a procession of cousins, holding the card

>and lead by my aunt..filed through and crowded around one side of his bed.

> I thought, " No, you can't..you can't give him that card and make him

>feel like you want him to be gone! How could you? You can't, you just

>can't! "

> I was sad, so I shifted my position to behind the other side of the bed-

>away from them. They handed the card to him and kissed him on the head. He

>smiled as he read it, and as he looked at the craftsmanship used to create

>it. He held the card, and they held him. As it turned out- my aunt had

>decided she didn't like the way in which- at a funeral, the family tells

>the crowd what a wonderful person their loved one was..only the loved one

>is already gone. She wanted him to hear it while his body was still alive.

>She decided to create something that he could hold and look at, and which

>they could always keep..which would depict the kind of love they shared,

>and the greatness of his giving nature, which they loved so much..and the

>memories held dear by each one. He shed a few happy, yet bitter tears. I

>felt like an intruder..this was a private family time..and I didn't belong.

>I felt sadness for no belonging, but I knew this was a special time that

>they needed to have alone

> with him. This time, I walked out..slowly, with my head down..trying to

>sneak away without being seen, or getting in the way and causing a

>disturbance in the midst of their special day. I 'landed' [suddenly

>arrived] in my bed, and my face was wet with tears.

>And that's the end of my 'dream'. I'm still not sure if it was a dream or

>an out-of-body-experience. My aunt has always made craft with her children.

>She is a very crafty person, and I think she finds peace in that.

>Love and blessings,

>Tara

>

>

>

>Ahhh...imagining that irresistible " new car " smell?

> Check out new cars at Autos.

>

>

>

>Food fight? Enjoy some healthy debate

>in the Answers Food & Drink Q & A.

>

>