Zephyr 98 Archive

Dreaming Home

Posted on: July 17, 2009

Since I was in my early 20’s (& maybe earlier), I’ve dreamed of our family’s old country home at least twice a year, returning to discover dimensions and qualities and inhabitants that I never found in my 3 dimensional childhood. That home keeps creeping into my writing–sometimes more as a personality or quality than a physical place.

We sold the house when I was 12, after my parents divorced, and moved into the city. 4 years ago (in the physical world) I stopped by on the way back from a country wedding, just to see the changes–something I’ve done every few years when I’m out that way. This time, the changes were shocking and more surreal than any I experienced in Slumberland. I’ll write about them in a future post–it was unsettling in a Ballardian post-apocalyptic way that I can’t describe in a few sentences.

Some dreams stick and don’t need to be journaled–especially those with recurring themes or unique dreams that include sensory experiences like the taste of perfect bread (real dream–a teaching dream) or one’s murder (real dream and thankfully only once, although I did get a small award for the story it inspired).


2 Responses to "Dreaming Home"

You’ve said a lot without saying much in this post. Reminds me of my grandfather’s house in which we lived for some time while in the same town. Even though we didn’t live there long it was home to me in the way that adults imagine the home of their childhood. I have never been back after my grandfather died and when I do go back to the house now owned by other people I am convinced it will be a surreal experience…

I lived there from 6-12, so really during the formative years of my childhood. It was always occupied after we sold it an moved until a few years before that last visit. It had been not just abandoned but reclaimed by the forest–not just the house and land, but every memory that went with it–while parcels all around had been purchased for the construction of mini estates. My father guessed that the owner was simply holding out and that any new owners would bulldoze everything. I fantasized for awhile about buying it and doing the same–well, short of building a villa. It really is a beautiful piece of property on the edge of miles of woods and wildlife that I imagine still exists. But maybe it’s better that it’s been swallowed up.

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