I slept pretty poorly last night, but I did manage to have another movie-like dream. In it, I was visiting a very old and dearly missed friend, Karen. Richell, Karen, and I were thick as thieves back in high school and the early part of college. We drifted apart and I haven’t seen her now in years. She married her high school sweetheart, Richard, and they have a young son.
In my dream, I went up the mountain where she used to live (still does, I believe). There was her house, a little one-level nestled in the side of a hill. I drove down the driveway that always intimidated me when I was a teen and new at driving and parked behind her car (forever in my mind a white Ford Escort though I’m sure that’s changed). I went inside the back door into the kitchen. Karen’s mom was there and she had just pulled out a pan of homemade biscuits. She made some of the best biscuits I have ever tasted. She invited me to sit down and have one with her famous Kool-Aid.
In my dream, Karen’s dad is still alive. In truth, he passed a few years back. He was a great man and so good to his family. He walked in and laughed in his raspy voice. He sat down next to me and we caught up and ate those biscuits with butter and jam. Her whole family came in like this and soon we were all sitting around in the kitchen, cutting up like we used to. Karen was the last one in. She came in and sat across from me. I told her how I had met Ian and was now his wife. I told her I was pregnant with my first child. I told her I missed her, some days so strongly that it makes me ache.
I woke up before she could say anything back to me.