Blog

10th September 2019

Just before dawn you floated into my dreams.The images were so vivid that when I opened my eyes it took a little while to adjust to the here and now, and the ordinary things that we do at the start of every day. Most of me was still back there, in the dream.

I found myself, like you do in a dream, apropos of nothing, in a street that I didn’t recognise. There were no cars or vehicles of any kind but the pavement was very wide and people were were strolling down it on both sides in no particular hurry to be anywhere. I was one of those people.

The place didn’t feel like anywhere in the UK. The people were dressed in elaborate costumes and the women wore hats, but I didn’t feel out of place in my clothes. There seemed to be room for everyone. on this street.

All of a sudden you came up beside me and only then could I see that everyone else was moving in slow motion. There was so much energy and movement in your stride. You were wearing a cream, wool coat. I reached out to touch the material because it looked so luxurious and suited you so well. It was so soft and warm. Your hair had grown and I remarked on that and you laughed. You were smiling all the time, as if you had just thought of something amusing you wanted to share with me but you didn’t want to stand still and talk.

Instead, you took off and I had to run to keep up with you. It was more like a dance than a sprint. Every so often you looked over your shoulder and held out a hand to encourage me to keep up but I could never quite reach the tips of your outstretched fingers.

The skin on your face glowed with health and happiness. There was no sign of illness or pain and you didn’t need to stop to catch your breath at all. You danced up the street and across to the other side, where a pathway led to the entrance of a park. Elaborate gates stood open on either side. I saw you run in, stop and look over your shoulder. This was my chance to catch up but just as I approached the gates they slammed shut. You waved at me from the other side and danced away, back to wherever you are now.

On my phone, the last messages we exchanged were about silly stuff. John Cooper Clarke on Desert Island Discs, but it made us giggle and when I read them back now I can hear your voice as it was and I can do that as often as I like. The dream was sweet.

Carol Rennard 22 November 1955 – 9 August 2019