I dreamt my parents were getting re-married. My father arrived in a colonial blue golf shirt that had been hanging up in the closet too long. Incredibly dusty, as I beat out the dust I wondered if he would be dressed up enough. I myself had a dress, my sister had a “better dress” one that resembled that of a flower girl, creamy white satin with curlique’s of white on the bodice and a little pink satin flower….I was supposed to be the maid of honor and my sister’s comment was that we should trade dresses. She could not be maid of honor as she was still nursing a child. Somehow there was a cake involved. I kept having to go here and go there, and not just a run around town, it was MILES away everything that was needed. We finally all were there and ready to take our places.
That’s all I’ve got. I don’t remember my mother there, any other siblings, but there was other people there.
Why do we dream what we do? Honestly, I’d requested, before I went to sleep, that I’d have a revelation as to where I left my Jabra earpiece, my answer to not having a smart phone planted next to my brain. I guess that dream is lost in the spaces of my mind. Well, at least, the Jabra is.
Anyway, I needed to record this dream, in hopes that I’d recover more of it. And there you have it.
It's All About the Journey 