The Rock
My dreams are back to gore again. And losing things. I’m always losing things. I have five copies of each key in everyday life so that I don’t get locked out of anything. I’ve had this dream earlier this year. Usually on a Saturday night when I’m dreading going to church. Which is a funny way to feel; 10 years ago church was my favorite place to be.
The dream begins with me breaking into a mega corporation. The complex itself is several miles and I know that something important is inside but I’m not sure what. I just know that it is imperative that I find it soon. I keep getting caught and thrown off the premises, during these attempts I learn that the company is owned by my mother and it is under her orders that I am not allowed on the grounds. Once I learn this I feel more frantic. I run into Kara and Jeremiah, two of my siblings, an I explain the situation to them. They help me evade the guards and throw mom off of my scent. I make it to her office to find a file but there is nothing on it but an address. I don’t recognize it at first until I see “Beltway Sth” on it and I feel my stomach drop. I meet back up with kara and Jeremiah and explain to them that whatever is wrong, we will find it at our old church. That sinking feeling doesn’t leave me for the rest of the dream, it only gets worse.
We catch a plane and then a car and arrive at the church. It isn’t a church day so I surprised to see a few cars in the lot. We get out of the car and start towards the front doors when a woman comes out. She isn’t a real person in real life, but in my dream I immediately know that she is an elder’s or deacon’s wife. She runs up and gives us each a hug and tells us she was wondering when we’d arrive. I ask her what she means and she looks confused. She tells me she knew we’d be coming because of what happened to Dad. I start to panic now and ask her again what she means. She gets that calm pitying look all good southern church wives reserve for “unfortunates” and tells us that dad was killed at the church three days ago and they’ve been waiting for someone to come for the body. I ask her where it happens and she points at a large lime stone rock that we always used as a door stop at the front entrance. There is dried blood on the rock and the ground and I am appalled that no one was kind enough to clean it up before we arrived, and then I wonder if they’ve even bothered to prepare the body. His head was bashed in. A church that he spent so many years at and they didn’t even bother to take care of his body. I wake up thinking, ‘Why’d you go back Dad? you knew better.”
But I know why he went back. You don’t give up on family.
