I was at a family reunion in a house I didn’t recognize. The entire dream took place in the large kitchen and attached dining area. My family doesn’t have reunions. We’re a relatively small family, you see. I don’t have any cousins.
I was quite confused as one can imagine. I was also very concerned. I found myself wearing light blue denim pants and a denim shirt perfectly matching the pants. (This has always annoyed me in real life, as it makes the wearer look like a garbage man or mechanic.) Nevertheless, there I was in a strange house full of strange people who apparently made up my family. Even though I didn’t know them, I didn’t want them to think I made a habit of dressing that way.
We began to eat. The only person I ended up recognizing was my grandmother, on my father’s side. In real life she has pretty much stopped eating altogether. In my dream she came up to me and said, “I’m tired. I’m going to take a nap. Will you fix me a plate and put it in the fridge for later?” I said of course, and she went away.
I prepared a plate of food for her and slid it into the fridge.
I fixed my own food. I ended up eating at a tiny table with the children, with my knees to my shoulders, wondering why I was wearing matching denim shirt and pants, wondering who these people are and what they must think of me dressed this way and eating with babies.
I kept a close eye on the fridge to make sure no one took grandma’s food.
I wanted to change my clothes. I wanted grandma to wake up and eat. I wanted to eat at the big table with the adults.
Instead I continued to chip away at a bottomless plate of potluck, and I monitored that fridge containing the most precious cargo ever placed under my care.
I glanced down the hallway where grandma had disappeared to nap. It was so dark I couldn’t see any doors.
Dream of David Huffman, 17 September 2007
