Summer Dreams: In honor of John and Trisha
Sunday night (going into Monday morning), I had one of those dreams. You know, the kind that stick with you for a few days, and it comes back to the forefront of your mind every day or so. Well, this time, though, it has me kind of spooked.
I had a hard time sleeping on Sunday for some strange reason, but sometime in the early morning this started. I don’t remember much in the way of details, but what I do remember was this. I died. I died, and I went to some strange place.. I can’t recall what it was, but I remember there was a voice telling me to relax, everything was under control and there was no reason to panic. It was extremely comforting, almost too comforting — as even now I think about how warm and fuzzy I felt when I was at this point in my dream. I was told by the voice that I needed to go back to my life because there was something I didn’t do (and this is where it starts to get a little weird, I guess). I can’t remember exactly what it was that I needed to do, but it had something to do with iPods. This might have something to do with the fact that my iPod has been “in the shop” for the past few weeks. Moments later my alarm woke up, and there I was.
So, like I said, the past few days I’ve been thinking back on how comfortable it was when I was deceased. But, this is where things start to get really weird, and it’s this point in my post that I get serious for a while.
Monday I learned some tragic news. I learned that the husband of my old boss at Best Cellars (Sarah), had passed away. It happened sometime last week, and they’re still unsure of what exactly happened - the preliminary autopsy was inconclusive. When I worked on Saturday’s we’d all go out to a restaurant or bar, and order bottles of wine and have a night out on the town. Often John, Sarah’s husband, would join us as he was a chef at a high-end Boston restaurant.
Today, I get an IM from a friend I haven’t talked to in a while — and asks me if I knew the last name of a girl we were friends with in College. Unfortunately I didn’t have it off the top of my head, but after some researching we found out her name was Trisha Tremblay. She was a recent victim of a tragic fire in Brooklyn. There’s a vigil for her tonight in Allston. We were in Freshman orientation together at Northeastern, and we were also friends throughout our college years. I remember the last time I saw her was ont he Red Line a year or so ago, when she was heading to UMass Boston to finish her college degree. She apparently moved to Brooklyn sometime later.
It’s so bizarre to have a dream like this, and then learn of two deaths of people I knew from my past. So, this post is for them — and if death is nearly as comforting as it was in my dream — they’re in a good place.
