The Forgotten Sister - Chapter 2

May 2^nd, Dream Weaving

Babies! Lots of babies. I couldn’t remember anything else. Just babies. The dream was kinda mixed up and ill defined. I wrote it down anyway, whatever I could remember. It wasn’t much. My second journal page was looking rather empty. It just sat there looking back at me with all that blank whiteness. Little there for my therapist to work with. I hadn’t thought much about babies for a long time. Not since my husband died and I left Sweden. We talked about starting a family but we were so young yet and wanted to just enjoy each other for awhile. We certainly did that. Right up until the end. Right up until the day the truck carrying a too heavy load of logs tipped over on his ancient Saab. I haven’t thought much about babies since then, not until last night and my dream about them. I suppose I should. I’m 28 now. My twenties are almost gone! When they started they seemed to stretch on forever. Not now! At least I didn’t dream of my sister. That’s good.

Dr. Koenig explained all about dreams to me. He said that our dream lives are divided into thirds. The first third is for sorting. That is similar to compressing the hard drive on your computer. We don’t remember that part. The second part is the precognitive part. In that part we process all of the compressed data received so far and try to predict what happens next so we won’t be so surprised when it does. Sometimes we remember those dreams but most of the time the information is relayed via hunches and "gut" feelings about various things. We literally "feel" the future. At least most of us do. Some people see their future by remembering these dreams but they are not in the majority. The last third of our dream lives is the purging or cleansing dream. This dream segment is where the mind cleans house and dumps the garbage. We tend to remember these dreams most clearly. They are very important to our mental health. Without them we would eventually go mad. My dreams were making me go mad so I didn’t quite understand that part. Perhaps in time I will.

One of the reasons I like living abroad is that I rarely see any old Saabs on the road. By old, I mean really old. My husband had a thing for old Saabs; Saab 96’s specifically. They resemble a turtle sucking a lemon. Lars would give me a funny look when I said that. He didn’t agree obviously. The really old ones had two cycle engines. I called them blue smokers. You had to mix oil in with the gas when you filled it up. I forgot once when we were first married. The engine made the most dreadful sounds coming home. I had the radio on loud and couldn’t hear it. Lars heard it though. He heard it while I was still blocks away. He had such a look on his face when I pulled in the drive! Lars wasn’t very happy with me that day but I did my best to make amends. I gave him a special treat usually reserved for his birthday. That put a smile back on his face. Lars fixed our blue smoker. I hadn’t put much straight gas in it so it was ok but it spent most of the time in the garage under it’s very own quilt after that.

Lars and I would take it to old car shows occasionally. We both had a bunch of same time period stuff to match the age of the car right down to our picnic set and clothes. It was fun and we won several prizes. You would think I would remember those days fondly but if I see an old Saab it just tears me up inside. My chest hurts, my stomach hurts, my head hurts. I cry. To me, old Saab’s mean Lars and Lars is dead and there is no getting around that. We had newer ones, several in fact. Lars made extra money when school was out fixing up old ones and selling them. I sold them all when he died. I couldn’t stand to look at them anymore. I didn’t drive a car in Sweden after the accident either. I didn’t drive again until I came to America and only because I had to. It’s funny the things we do to try to heal our hurts.

I was in a good mood at work today. I sang and smiled like I used to before the dreams about Lizbeth began to haunt me. When I returned home I turned on my computer. I thought about skipping the Swedish news sites but gave in to curiosity. Lisbeth’s trial is a national sensation. The reporters go on and on about the same things and get really excited when some new little tidbit is leaked out. Lizbeth was found innocent of all charges and released. Perhaps now the bad dreams will stop for good. I hope so.

I fixed dinner for one and I turned in early as usual. The sun was still up and shining brightly and would for hours yet. Later, during mid-summer, it would get dusky but never really dark. The moon and the stars disappear for weeks. Time to pull the heavy shades. Morning comes sooner for bakers than most folk. To bed, to sleep, perchance to dream….

.....to be continued: http://robnpak.hubpages.com/hub/The-Forgotten-Sister-Chapter-3

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