d – dreams
Several of the professors at Regis happened to come from a depth psychology/Jungian background. This is a focus on the “unconscious” and includes dreamwork.
At the conclusion of my Grief Counseling class, the benchmark paper was to “include sleep dreams you may have had that companioned you during a grieving time in your life.” I was glad I had recorded my Kade dreams in a dream journal I keep by my bed.
For this project I got to revisit a dream, research the writings of Jung and other depth psychologists, and get my professor’s feedback. That exercise was the essence of the joining of my grief and my counseling education.
I chose “dream” because I had a dream about Kade that I woke up from this morning. It wasn’t a wonderful dream where I felt as if his spirit was visiting me, that family and friends of his have described having (I don’t know if I’ve ever experienced that). It wasn’t a great dream where I felt as if was getting to lay eyes on him. It was kind of a bad dream where it involved his death and me lamenting it. So, I suppose, a reflection of real life.
In the dream Kade had to go away. Like to juvenile detention, or to jail, or something. He had to go away someplace, and for some reason, he died where he could not come back, instead of simply going to jail where he could come back. And I was lamenting my part in it.
“Why didn’t he choose jail?!–he could have come back! Why did he choose dying?! That was so stupid! Why didn’t we think this through?! Why didn’t I think to talk him out of the death option before it was too late?!” These are not necessarily the words I was saying, but the feelings I was having. Yeah, pretty awful.
But as I’ve mentioned before…anything that brings me closer to Kade is somehow strangely comforting. I dreamed about him = I haven’t forgotten him. More frightening than mourning his death, or even my part in it in a dream, is forgetting him.
I’ve had a handful of Kade dreams since he died. I keep a dream journal next to my bed so I can write them down because they are so fleeting. Some have been sad but some have been really comforting.
I’ll briefly describe my favorite:
I didn’t have my dream journal because I was traveling, so I voice-recorded it on my phone. The night before, I had been especially missing Kade before going to bed. It was a definite low. When I woke the next morning, I recalled the dream. I was having a conversation with my healthy-looking smiling boy. (So healthy, in fact, he looked a little fuller in the face, and had a beauty mark on his face that he didn’t have in life–strange). Kade looked so content. And it came to me after a little while that my vantage point talking with him in the dream was the exact spot I was sitting where I was missing him so acutely the night before.