I don’t talk about my dreams much. I rarely blog about them because I think they aren’t meaningful or interesting to anyone except me.
Dreams sometimes help me work through the thoughts that are racing through my head. Other times, they are the feverish reactions to emotional overload, having a headache, or eating too much garlic at dinner.
So I don’t attribute too much meaning to them, other than using them as a catalyst to think through problems.
Two nights ago my late wife appeared in my dream. I knew she was dead, but she had returned to tell me that she approved of me dating. She was healthy, smiling and full of life. She told me she liked that I was growing my hair again. She agreed it was time to upgrade my wardrobe beyond the “rock climber/hiker/desert survivalist” outfits that I’d been wearing for the past 3 years.
When I woke up, I laid in bed for a few minutes smiling. It felt like she had visited my dreams to give me her blessing to fall in love again.