My wife's father died in 2002. She told me a few months ago she'd had a dream about him. She also told me, "I believe dead people talk to us in our dreams." My wife and I are not religious in any sense of the word, and frankly, I never think about the subject of life after death. I'm of the opinion, well, someday I'll see one way or another, won't I? If I don't wake up in a lake of fire or to the sound of harps I'll probably figure it wasn't worth worrying about, and if I end up in either place I'll think, "Uh-oh. I shoulda paid attention when I was a kid in Sunday School."
Ah, but I digress. This past Sunday morning I woke up early from a dream about a deceased coworker. Jan was a custodian. She had worked herself up to a top job in the school district where we work. She was in charge of the entire complex--a former hospital--where our district offices are now located. She had a whole staff and was busy all of the time, both with helping other people and with her managerial responsibilities.
Jan was the proverbial diamond in the rough, laughing, smiling when pleased, but you also knew when she wasn't happy. Jan could be sensitive, or she could tell you dirty jokes. I met her in 1995 when she was 30, a rover custodian. She would go from school to school, filling in for custodians who were out sick or on vacation. Jan didn't have more than a high school education, but she was an extremely hard worker. She got noticed and made her rise to the top.
Jan was married at age 19 to a man 24 years her senior. She had met him at Alcoholics Anonymous, where they were both still active. Jan's sobriety was something she was proud of.
One day last year Jan made a left turn in an intersection and was broadsided by a dairy truck. Before she left work that day her assistant told her she should take a nap because she was completely exhausted. Jan was in a coma for about a week and then they pulled the life support. Hundreds of people in the school district felt like they had lost a dear friend. Jan was my friend. I met her first, then my wife Sally met her, and they became friends. They went to lunch together every couple of months.
On Sunday morning I had a dream about Jan, but I can't remember what it was about. It woke me up and I thought about it until, like smoke, it evaporated and I went back to sleep. Then I dreamed Jan was standing behind me as I was sorting mail on my work vehicle. I turned and saw her. She was wearing a blue t-shirt, had her arms crossed, and she looked just like she did when I met her years ago. I told her, "Jan, I have really, really missed you." She replied, "I know. You had a dream about me earlier this morning."
My thought to that was, "Hey! People who've died can tell when we're dreaming about them!" That woke me up, too. I told Sally about it later, and reminded her of what she'd told me about believing the deceased talk to us in our dreams.
As I was typing that previous paragraph a memory came back to me. My dad died in December 1967. Forty years ago, after his funeral, I went back to my Army station in Nuremberg, Germany. By that time I was engaged to Sally. I dreamed about Dad. He was standing on the other side of a fence. Behind him was an amusement park. He said, "Why don't you come on over the fence and join me." I responded, "Well, if you don't mind…I think I'll stay here with Sally."
So, was I talking to the departed spirit of my dad? Was I talking to the departed spirit of Jan? I've known a lot of people who have died and never dreamed of them. I don't remember a lot of dreams, though, so those I mentioned have stuck out in my mind. My rational mind tells me it's all just memory, some sort of peculiarity of the brain, putting people who meant something to us back in our heads during the dream state. As much as I think that's true there's the other side of me that wants to believe that, yeah, it's nice to think that maybe I got a chance to tell Jan I miss her. I also got a chance to tell Dad that my life would be better spent with Sally than on his side of the fence. They are comforting thoughts.
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