I dreamed last night that my mother, my brother Michael, an aunt, and my father came to pick me up and take me home for a visit.
Everyone except my father is someone who has died. And in the dream, he was far gone (as he is now) with Alzheimer's.
My brother and I had been estranged for several years when he died; in the dream we still were -- we had one of the typical arguments we were always having, in which he repeated some silly lie he had heard on Fox News or from Rush Limbaugh, and I pointed out how the venue had misrepresented the truth, and he got pissed and called me a liberal terrorist -- but toward the dream's end we had a semi-reconciliation.
It was an odd and disturbing dream. Last week was my mother's birthday, and today of course is mother's day. Maybe that's what's up.