Dreams

I had a dream this morning where my sister was on a show like American Idol as one of the top 10 contestants, and they had this song marathon thing where each person had to sing four songs in a row before they got to take a break, and the last song my sister sang was "Boys of Summer," and just as she finished up and was about to be told how she did by the judges, Fox just cut out.

Then I was going to tell my friends about it, and they were all playing mini-golf at the Jewish community center, and the older Jewish people there were really upset because my friends were eating their potato chips because my friends aren't Jewish, so they were dumping potato chips on the putting greens so that my friends couldn't keep playing.

I said that my friends had a right to be playing mini-golf because they paid to be there, and the Jewish people were just yelling things, and so I started talking to them calmly and an older man got into an argument with my friend Jess (who looked like Carla from Scrubs for some reason, which is odd because Jess is a short redhead), and I stepped in to defend her and said that the church is about community and love and celebrating life, and the old man said that his church had given him something much better than celebrating life: celebrating death.  I yelled "What about life AFTER death!" at him and he started screaming the Lord's Prayer (why, I don't know. He was Jewish), and in the middle of it he bowed down on the ground toward the church and sort of sobbed the rest of the prayer, and so I bowed down beside him and finished the prayer with him.

When he was done, he got up and walked back inside, and I started walking away, turned toward Jess, and said, "Come on. Come on, it's over." I think she said something about how he was wrong, and that we had to stay, and I said, "There's nothing that will change his mind short of himself. Whether or not he ever discovers that he's wrong isn't up to us. Now come on."

It's interesting how your dreams can teach you lessons you should already know. I hope that the old man doesn't regret being so afraid of death that he never opted to live, but it's hard for me to believe that he wouldn't feel as though he missed out.  If he does, then that will be very sad for him, but I can only tell him what I think of life; he's the one who has to make the choice to live.