Dead, You Know

My dreams tend to be wonderful.  Yes, there are the occasional anxiety dreams, but I seem to have that under control now, pretty much.  The most recent of that variety came the other night.  I was at the public radio station where I spent too much time in real life.  We were about to go live with a pledge campaign.  I, naturally, was one of the beggers.  The station manager was to go on with me and we were going to take a new approach.  I was glad to hear that, but she then disappeared, our shift was about to start, and I had no idea what to do that was new.  Happily, I didn't care, either.  Anxiety...poof!

What I enjoy most is when friends no longer with us are part of the dream.  The public television/radio station I worked for started out in the Community Center in Hershey.  Our studio, tech area, and scene shop were in the basement.  The offices were on the 4th floor, which had been a dorm.  The 3rd floor was still a men's dorm, populated pretty much by garoulous old men.  The 4th floor had been home to visiting sports teams, including the Eagles back when they trained in Hershey.

Our offices were dorm rooms.  My room's closet was turned into a recording "studio," since I was the TV announcer.  It worked until folks yelled or laughed in the hall.  There were showers, wash rooms, and rest rooms on each wing.  The shower room in one wing was turned into the dark room; the other shower was storage.  The station was a wild, wonderful, creative place at the time.  The commercial stations did news; we did arts programs, political talk shows, movies, kids' specials, and much more.  We knew we were special.

Anyway, in the dream, we were in the process of moving out.  I went to the mailboxes to see if anything came in.  I heard conversation in an office, the voices of two people whose company I enjoyed.  I went in and saw two women who never worked there -- they were at the next location.  One of the women was laid off in '93, the other died within the last year.  They were friends in real life and were as much fun in the dream.  Ginnie, the woman who died, was packing boxes and Connie was going through piles of paper.  The dream was long-ish and it felt wonderful to be in their presence again.

Several of the people I worked with have died but show up in my dreams.  Mostly, I'm not aware that I'm dreaming.  Sometimes it's as though I haven't seen them in a long time and am happy for the reunion.  Other times, it's just as if it were a real life episode.

I'm 66.  Too many people I knew and loved and appreciated are now dead.  I miss them.  When I see them in a dream, it's usually as if I'm with them and our lives continue.  It's one of the joys of sleep.