Flowers from the Past.

I woke up this morning from a really odd dream about a lady I used to work with in the school holidays alongside my Mum.
Her name was Ivy and she was a pensioner then, so quite a bit older than Mum who was the Manageress at the time. I was about 12 or 13, so Mum would have been in her late 40s.

I had never been to this lady’s house, but in my dream the trip to it took me down familiar streets with the traffic flow running the opposite way to how I remembered.
Her house was next door to a small block of flats, a gold tone number 6 perfectly aligned on her white double glazed door.

I rang the bell and she opened it. A tall willowy lady, perfectly groomed, exactly as I remembered her from all those years ago, she invited me in.
She knew who I was and knew Mum had passed away.
I held her tight and we cried together.
What struck me were the flowers.
Her carpet was a design of large pompom type blooms that stretched up onto the walls (no skirting boards), her curtains and ceilings. They were blue and pink, yellow, purple and orange, and it was like being consumed by a floral display.
Then I woke up.

Always one to try and analyse my dreams, obviously Mum is very much in my thoughts, and one of the things I’d noticed at the funeral and from the sympathy cards my sister had received was that Mum had outlived all of her friends.
Ivy was in her 60s fifty years ago, so why would I dream of this lady, who was not actually a personal friend to Mum but a working colleague?
And were the flowers to suggest the Garden of Remembrance where ashes are usually scattered?

About a month or so after my Dad died, he came to me in my dreams, young and whole, pain and stress free. He visited several times over the years, never to speak, and once when I reached out to take his hand, he backed away with a smile as if to say ‘Not yet.’
I am hoping Mum will come to me too when the time is right. Maybe they intend to come together. I wake up each morning and see her in my mind’s eye, each time younger than before. Perhaps there are a few more years to backtrack first.

About pensitivity101

I am a retired number cruncher with a vivid imagination and wacky sense of humour which extends to short stories and poetry. I love to cook and am a bit of a dog whisperer as I get on better with them than people sometimes! We have recently lost our beloved dog Maggie who adopted us as a 7 week old pup in March 2005. We decided to have a photo put on canvas as we had for her predecessor Barney, and now have three pictures of our fur babies on the wall as we found a snapshot of my GSD so had hers done too. From 2014 to 2017 'Home' was a 41 foot narrow boat where we made strong friendships both on and off the water. We were close to nature enjoying swan and duck families for neighbours, and it was a fascinating chapter in our lives. We now reside in a small bungalow on the Lincolnshire coast where we have forged new friendships and interests.
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2 Responses to Flowers from the Past.

  1. tidalscribe says:

    You have reminded me that I dreamt of my aunt coming down the stairs in their little house soon after she died – hardly strange, because I had seen her coming down those stairs all my life, but in my dream I said to her ‘See, I said you would be back.’ When my uncle was in hopital, which turned out to be soon before he died, he said he kept seeing my aunt, but I think he took it to be his imagination.

    • It doesn’t surprise me, as those who have passed away that we care about are always in our thoughts, or just below the surface. It never bothered me seeing my Dad, he would ‘visit’ when I was worried and just seeing him in my dreams made me feel better.

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