Last night's dream: Funerary Pool

I was standing in my grandparents' driveway arguing with someone about funeral flowers. This person did not want to buy new flowers for the casket when we already had perfectly good purple and midnight blue roses. I put them in the back of my SUV.

The next thing I remember is being in the room with the body. The body was apparently some father figure of mine, but it was actually the body of the father, Mr. Fisher, in Six Feet Under. He had been placed in a kiddie pool of water, legs poking out and eyes closed, and blue dye had been added to the water.

Suddenly a girl younger than me in a white sleeping gown crawled into the pool and snuggled up to him. She said, "Hug him, Tamara, he's your," and then she used some word that meant part of the family. I felt like I had to, so I crawled into the pool and hugged the body.

Then my Mom and Dad stopped by and checked me into a hotel. They paid for the room and left. Then I was in the shower and running late. When I got out I had my stuff scattered everywhere. Someone called me from the car, already en route. I talked to them while I tried to pack quickly, but my arms moved like molasses. I had to check the shower three times because I was sure that I had left something. When I headed out the door I turned and looked back at the clock. It read 7:17. I imagined that the funeral must be at 9, if it was already 7:17, and I had a flashback of long hours spent in the Savannah funeral home, with Brooke, my grandpa, and me upstairs in the lounge sipping Coke from a glass bottle. I knew I would be exhausted when the funeral was over.

I was driving, apparently leading a caravan to the funeral, and we were all running late. My sunglasses had been dropped in some sort of oil, and I couldn't see through the lenses. The road was grated metal, so I couldn't steer with one leg to clear the lenses because the wheel was pulling too powerfully. I was exasperated.

When I got back to the room with the body I was met with a frazzled Mrs. Fisher. Her face and hands were tinted blue, and her hair was windswept and her eyes were puffy. I knew the flower girl from the beginning of the dream had come back and was causing trouble.

"Overnight he slipped down into the water and now he's dyed blue!" She said in exasperation. I turned to the body in the pool, and he was indeed dyed blue.

"Oh, no, the flowers didn't wilt, did they?" I walked over to the empty casket, and the roses were soaking wet. Most of the buds had dropped to the floor, and petals were dropping off as I watched. Mostly there were only stems left.

Nate was in the dream, but I don't remember what he was doing.

NOTE: I haven't watched Six Feet Under for a few weeks, if not months.

1 comment:

theogeo said...

Nate was probably smoking a joint and acting all sanctimonious, and then fucking a distant relative and having some "spiritual" revelation afterward.