I’m asleep when I realize I’m having a dream within a dream.
Bruce is here and he’s talking to me.
My mother died over a year ago and I have had little contact with her since.
Bruce died five years ago, when he was fifty, after a ghastly run with colon cancer.
It was a long run. He had been a handsome, strong, vital man. A brilliant man. We were friends.
Toward the end of his life he lay like a waxen, hairless skeleton on his couch. I sat beside him in a chair and rubbed and soothed his bald head. He told me if he could change things he would never have had chemo.
When Bruce was in hospice and hours away from dying Regina called and asked me to go into his head and tell them what he wanted. He was restless, she said. He desperately wanted something and he couldn’t talk.
“The odd thing is,” I said to Regina, “was that he was literally moments from death when I was there in his mind and he still didn’t believe he was going to die. He was still in denial. How could that be?”
Now, Bruce is dead. It happened. He died.
He has small boxes lined up in a straight line on both sides of himself. He tells me that he is putting notes for his wife in each box. As he puts them in he tells me what the messages are.
I say, “Oh Bruce, I will never remember all of these things when I wake up!”
I am not used to talking to dead people in my dreams. I talk to them when I am awake and working as a medium for people. My clients write down what I hear from their loved ones. Then they remember.
Bruce is telling me he is giving me these communications so Regina will know he is alive and well. He says she will know by what he says: that he still comes to her and that he knows what is going on in her life and around her. He says the messages I give her will prove that this is true.
Then he’s gone.
I have to tell Regina immediately or I will forget the messages.
Still dreaming, I go find Regina asleep in her bed and I shake her awake. I feel badly that I wake her. She sits up suddenly, all befuddled with sleep. She stares at the wall.
“I’m sorry to wake you!” I say, “but I’ve just talked to Bruce!”
I give her the messages I can remember.
Later, back in my bed, still in the remnants of the dream, I go over in my mind all the things Bruce told me, trying to retain them. I can only remember two!
I make myself wake up for real and sit up in bed. I stand up. Still, I can only remember two messages. Oh my!
The rest of the night as I sleep I have people in my head but they are mainly live people I know.
“Why are all of you in my head?” I demand. “I can’t sleep with all of you here.”
In the early morning, all shaken and wan, I call my friend.
Regina is running out the door to exercise class but when I say, “I talked to Bruce last night,” she closes the door.
“I saw Bruce and talked to him and he had lots of things to tell you. Someone is pregnant,” I begin. “It’s maybe someone you know or don’t know but it’s not expected. Or, it’s surprising.”
“I’m sorry,” I add. “There were lots of messages but I can only remember that one and the other one. Maybe because both of them seemed so unusual or charged with energy to me.
“The biggest message is that Bruce is very happy with some research he’s doing,” I say. “It’s something big and compelling and he loves it. He showed this work to me as a huge chunk of fat, long, waving energy with colors in it. He’s really happy about it, Regina.”
“He told me a bunch of things that would prove to you that he is alive and with you.” I sigh, “I just can’t remember them.”
There’s a silence and I sigh, again.
Regina says, “Venus, this is incredible. I’ve been feeling Bruce around me all week. Just yesterday I said to him, “If you can’t get through to me, talk to Venus!”
Regina cries with happiness.
Both of us are stunned. We’re sucking air and marveling.
“You asked Bruce yesterday to talk to me?” I say, “and last night he did?”
Yes he did.
Yes he did.
Yes he did!
The dead are more alive than we are. And some day we will all be more alive than we are now.
It doesn’t matter if you believe or don’t believe. You too will someday be on The Other Side of Life, and perhaps find yourself filtering into the dreams of someone you love who is still in this dimension. And if they don’t hear you, or don’t remember hearing you, you will think, “Ah well. It’s alright. The day will come when we are together, again. Then all pain and misunderstandings will be washed clean. I can wait. Eternity is fine and never ending.”
It will happen. It will be there.
Have a good night’s sleep.
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