The Forgotten Sister - Chapter 3
...The story continues
The Forgotten Sister
Chapter Three
Pain and Progress
May 3rd
I guess it was inevitable that I would dream about old Saabs last night. All of that writing about them yesterday must have triggered something. Lars and I were going somewhere in the old blue smoker. It must have been either to a swap meet or car show. It was often hard to tell the difference between them. We were dressed in our mod ‘60s outfits. I’m always amazed at how much better the fabrics are in these old clothes than in the new ones. They come right out of the dryer wrinkle free and ready to wear. Not so the newer clothes. Apparently our grasp of fabric technology is slipping or perhaps this knowledge is not lost but merely ignored in our rush to the bottom line of making garments as cheaply as possible. Believe me, it shows!
Lars was happy in my dream. He was singing along with a song on the radio. He loved Abba. Whenever an Abba song played he’d sing right along with the group. He knew all the words by heart. He would often hum Abba songs to himself when he was working on one of his beloved old Saabs. In the past I would always be sad when I dreamed of Lars or heard and old Abba song or seen an ancient Saab trundling down the road but not this time. I remember telling Lars in my dream that it was fun visiting like this. I told him that I would love to do this more often and I was happy to see him singing. He asked me if there was one of my famous chocolate black current layer cakes in the hamper?
"Of course", I said. "I made one because I know you love them and I love you. I know that this is just a dream but I love you still the same."
"Love is never wrong or out of place Camilla. Thank you darling."
We pulled into a parking lot and there were hundreds and hundreds of old Saabs there. They were every color of the rainbow and looked like they all just rolled out of the factory door. There was not a speck of dirt or rust on any of them. We strolled down one aisle after another, row upon row of Saabs. Lars was ecstatic.
"Thank you Sweetheart for coming with me today." Then he kissed me and I woke up.
Before I went to bed last night I did my handwriting task. Dr. Koenig called it ideomotor programming. Our handwriting can serve as an open channel to our subconscious. It both reveals and heals. If we write down something enough times it will form a new association in our subconscious minds. Dr. Koenig suggested that I write the words: I embrace the healing power of dreams with joy at least 25 times before going to bed. I tried that and it worked. I’m not sad after seeing Lars in my dreams today, I’m grateful. I wondered about the Saabs. Would they still trigger a flood of tears and grief? The problem was that I was now living in a town almost completely devoid of Saabs old or new. There were lots of old Subaru’s around but that really didn’t help me.
After work I got out the phone book and looked up the town junkyards and started calling. I asked them if they had any old Saabs in their yards. One of them did. I sat down with a hot cup of tea before dashing over there. I needed to think and I do my best thinking with a cup of hot tea warming my hands. Was I really ready for this? I was shaking a bit as I drove to the junkyard. Junkyards are either a thing of beauty if you love them or one of mankind’s ugliest creations. There is little middle ground with junkyards. This one was fairly neat as junkyards go. The cars were not stacked on top of one another like some of them. The also had a workshop there and were restoring some of the more valuable examples. It looked hopeful.
I parked my car and went into the office. "I called earlier about old Saabs. Someone told me that you had one, a Saab 96."
"That would be me," said a nice young man sporting only a thin layer of grease and oil. We have an early 60s model way out back. What parts do you need?"
"I really just need to take a look at one for now. Can you show me where it is?"
"Sure, no charge for looking. I can make you a good deal on parts though. We haven’t had much call for Saab 96 parts for a long time. The boss was thinking of sending it to the crusher along with our numerous Ford Pintos. Not much call for them either. Come with me."
There it was sitting off by itself at the end of a row. It wasn’t much to look at. The windows were long gone as well as the steering wheel and hub caps. The upholstery was in tatters. Something had been nesting in there. Ravens or pigeons from the look of it. But it was the real deal. Not a blue smoker. Newer than that but still a Saab 96, the one with the tiny V4 engine. What did I feel standing there? Sad that this once marvelous machine was in such bad shape but not sad because of what it represented. Seeing it took me back to a happier time, not to Lars’ last day in his car. I guess my dream did what it was supposed to do. My eyes were dry as I walked back to my car. Today was a good day to be alive.
.....to be continued: http://robnpak.hubpages.com/hub/The-Forgotten-Sister-Chapter-4
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