Dreamways

Sleep Dream. I am at the family house in the Springs. It is still in the family, it has not been sold, as is the case in waking life. Zaiga is dead. The feeling is that Armīns, too, is dead and that I am coming to take care of things, dispose of the place. There is no one in the house, I am alone. I am my current age. It is a quiet, perhaps cloudy sort of day. The house is furnished as it was when I lived there, not the pack rat’s den that Armīns turned it into in the years after Zaiga’s departure.

The past few days have seen me quite involved with HOA stuff. The Board has dealt with the fact that items have been stolen from the storage rooms and that there is evidence of someone hanging out in the basement, smoking. The response to these disturbing events has involved lots of emails and an emergency board meeting Wednesday. Arranging the logistics to get back door locks changed and keys out to owners and residents has involved chunks of time. And then will come evaluating bids for a security system for the building.

Sleep Dream. Now I am in a small, upstate NY town. Even though waking me has never been there, perhaps it’s Zigis‘ Callicoon. I‘m part of a small, subdued, proper gathering, like Latvians, but not. We are there for a funeral, but I now don’t know whose. I talk with a slender, wiry, blond woman, in her early 50‘s. It turns out that she is Tracy F., who lived on my block of Union Blvd. in my childhood. She is Skip’s younger sister. She reminds me of what I imagine Grace R. might be like, with a quick, ironic wit, a fast tongue, and lots of sadness and disappointment in her eyes.  read more »