Dreams, or Good Things Come to Those Who Wait

Do you have dreams? Do you record them? What do you think of them?

I've had lots of dreams. For a while, when I was in the 8th grade, I would write about them in my journal. I don't do that now, unless there is some reason I want to remember one. One dream, however, I did not record and have not forgotten although it was relegated to the depths of memory where it could easily have been. It was a short dream that I had when I was fifteen or sixteen years old.

I was walking down a dirt road. It was a country road with trees on my left and a split rail fence on the right with a field beyond. There were a few trees along the fence, but not many; the field was definitely dominate there as were the trees on the left. Walking in the middle of the road toward me was a young man. He was tall, had dark hair and glasses. I did not know who he was; I had never seen him before, but I knew that this was the man I would one day marry. Just as we met, the dream ended.

One day, Paul showed me a picture of two of his nephews. He said that the taller of the two looked a lot like he did when he was younger. Suddenly, I remembered this dream and thought to myself, "This kid could almost be the young man in my dream." Hmmmm, if Paul looked like that and this kid could have been the one in my dream, could Paul have been the one? Later, Paul showed me some pictures of him that would have been taken near the time when I had the dream.

This is the picture. This is the young man in my dream.

Interesting?

Twenty-seven or eight years after the dream, I did marry him.

 

 

The moral of this story? Good things come to those who wait.