Meeting Dead People

I had a dream last night . . . although I'm not sure this was a "dream." One of my good friends who I went to grade school with and then high school lost her mother about 10 years ago. I sort of knew her mother because I spoke to her when I used to visit my friend. She was pleasant, often blunt and to the point but had a nice sense of humour. A few years before she died my friend donated a kidney to her mother. So, I'm safe to say that they were quite close as mother and daughter.

Last night I saw my friend's mother in this "dream" state. I bumped into her and was shocked to see her. I told her that her daughter missed her very much. I then told her that she should spend more time with her daughter. My vision was very vivid although it was hard to look my friend's mother in the face. Her face seemed distorted or blurry.

I haven't talked to my friend in years but I have her on Facebook. I decided to look at her profile today and her status read, ". . . the dreams need to stop. I feel like I am going insane . . ." I wrote to her right away and asked her what that meant. She sent me a private message stating that her mother sometimes shows up in her dreams and gives her messages that manifest in the mortal world. She wanted to know what to think about these dreams. I reassured her that her mother is still around and looks after her. I let her know that it not a bad thing at all and she should continue to converse with her. I also told her about my meeting with her mother. I wasn't going to tell her because you never know what people think about that . . . my friend and I went to Catholic school together and I think she still holds some of those beliefs. She also told me that she had a dream where all her dead relatives were at a dinner that looked like the Last Supper and they wanted to meet her dog. I thought that was nice.

Usually my dreams come in symbols . . . I don't usually converse with dead people . . . or at least I haven't since I was a child. I've been doing some chakra meditations . . . perhaps my third eye is opening.