I had a strange and very vivid dream about my childhood home. In the dream, I was visiting it with Patrick. The people who owned it tilled the land and made it into farm land. The backyard had become knee deep in swampy water. They did this on purpose b/c the land sloped so that the water would drain into a large ditch at the back of the yard. I walked around with Patrick and reminisced. I told him how my big brother would come up with all sorts of fun games to entertain us. My brother has an amazing and creative mind. We would rake the leaves into a trail and play tag. I pointed out a tree to Patrick that we tied a rope to a low branch. I explained to him that there would be a gap in the trail so that you would use the rope to jump across. Patrick was very impressed. This dream was so vivid and full of sadness. I cried a lot. I walked around mourned the fact that I'm no longer a kid. We all have to grow up and move on. But in my dream I was desperately sad about losing all of this. In the dream, the house was for sale, and Patrick was willing to buy it for us. I immediately felt better. I began playing with the idea of draining the backyard and recreating the lawn of my childhood.
But, no matter how strongly we wish it, we can't recreate the past. Nor should we strive to do so. The memories I have of my childhood are both good and bad, as is anyone's. I just wonder why that house is weighing so heavily on my mind right now. Perhaps it is because I am currently moving through the city of my ancestor's. Just last night I passed by a church in which an ancestor was baptized. I have thought of these ancestors quite a bit and wonder if we are sharing any views of the city. Perhaps they too stood on a Quai and admired Notre Dame. Or maybe they were busy living life and making ends meet to notice the city around them. Maybe being on my own is bringing my family closer to my heart. I'm not sure. But, that was a really vivid dream.