Sweet Dreams are Made of This

 

Two days after winter officially began (according to the calendar) a primrose, that was not planted when we buried Bongo's cremains, bloomed.

There's no earthly reason that this happened. Primrose usually blooms in the spring. I took it as a sign.

Last Sunday morning, I woke with a memory of a very vivid dream. This is not out of the ordinary - as a primrose blooming in December might be. I tend to dream vivid colors, I hear sounds in my dreams, I can smell, taste, and touch things in my dreams. I don't always remember the dream in its entirety, but I can certainly remember the feelings and senses triggered by the dream.

I dreamed of two-year-old Bongo. I was snuggling with him on our couch, which he was permitted to join us on when he had just had a bath and was brushed to a shiny, fluffy, soft texture. I was very aware in the dream of his chest. I felt his fur. Not a good snuggling dog, he typically endured hugs for a short period before moving away, his behavior in the dream was a little out of character. As we cuddled on the couch, he was very relaxed and enjoying my stroking his silky fur. I remember a feeling of complete calm and peace coming over me in the dream.

This was a difficult week personally speaking for a lot of reasons. So I took the dream as a sign. I think Bongo's spirit visited me in my dream and gave me comfort. I don't know how to put it into words, but I know he was there in my dream state. 

I'm not trying to linger in that dream state, but I can remember the feeling it gave me and I will visit it when I'm feeling low.