I used to have these unsettling dreams that I was lecturing a class, and the students were getting up and leaving. I'd always wake up before the classroom was completely empty. I retired from college teaching back in 2000, and those dreams went away. That dream never came true, and I seldom think of those days now that I'm living another lifestyle. But I'd take the hectic pace of life I had back then if allowed to go back. I don't like my lifestyle these days, but that has little to do with being retired. I don't miss teaching, or coaching, or anything I did back in my younger days. What I miss, however, is doing something productive, worthwhile, and challenging. I don't like being worn out and worthless . . . and even worse, a liability. That's my worst nightmare, the liability part.
Do dreams come true? Ask most people, and they will say no, that dreams are just dreams and nothing more. I disagree because I've had some dreams that came true. They didn't play out exactly as my mind conjured them up in dreamland, but they still came to pass. During one of the worst periods of my life, back when I was struggling with a weighty drinking problem, I had a recurring dream where I came home and found my house empty. That old house is gone now but the dream is still with me because I lived it. In the dream, I get out of my car on a cold morning and start walking toward the front door. And as I get closer, I see that the house is abandoned and in disrepair. I never get inside the house in the dream, wake up first and in a cold sweat.
I stopped drinking in 1982 and didn't encounter that empty house until a few years later. It was a March morning and cold, just like in the dream. I'd been away for some ten days, and I wasn't surprised to find the house empty. There'd been a big disagreement between me and the wife before I left, and I expected her to be gone when I returned. I'd almost forgotten the dream until I stuck my key into the front door lock and heard it echo inside . . . and yes, the house was indeed empty except for a few of my things. That was the coldest day of my life, and I was 43 years old at the time. Within six months, I was divorced, and within a year had a new life started with another woman, the one I'm married to now. It was a good trade - good for everyone concerned.
I think of my life in two parts - the first forty years and the years since then. The last part has been much better than the first forty . . . until the past few years. Now, I'm worn out, and I want out. Lately, I've been dreaming about places I've never seen before, and about people I don't know. The dreams are almost pleasant, and if they're in some way uncomfortable, they're at least entertaining. I don't remember much about most dreams, just little pieces of them, and that's probably for the better. I don't have much to be unhappy about, and I'm not miserable by a long stretch. I'm just disabled, or unabled, or whatever you want to call it. My mind is still active, but my body has quit me, disallowed me to do the things I want most to do. The body and soul should die at the same time. A trapped mind is an awful thing, and the better the mind, the more devastating the entrapment. My mind wants out of this old body, and that comes out in my dreams. I'm waiting on that dream that shows me where I'm headed after my worn out body finally gives up. I'm hoping for a farm, lots of animals, that sort of thing.
So, dream, old man, dream. It might just come true.
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