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  • Writer's pictureEric Dinsdale

Dreams of Heaven

I have reoccurring dreams.

Some are good.

Some are bad.

Some chill me to the bone and haunt me as if they are memories, causing me PTSD as I sleep.

The good ones are nice, interesting, strange, but in the most pleasant way.

I dream of Heaven a lot.

I do not know if it means nothing, or perhaps it is maybe a glimpse into the future.

Heaven is a place I would like to be.

From what I have seen, the weather is always nice, not one natural disaster.

My time always begins waking up, stretching in the most comfortable bed, from the most sound sleep.

I do not have trouble waking, or getting up.

I think about the dream I had that adds up to a lifetime of memories.

I can recall a vivid memory at moments notice of any part of my life.

Somehow I know where I am and for once feel comfort and ease.

I get excited! I do not know what is in store, but I can only imagine.

Bacon is ready for me as I arrive in the kitchen.

I set off to find my ancestors, we have some getting to know each other to do.

Now, Heaven is an eternity, so time is skewed more for me, even more so than it was on earth.

I could spend 5 minutes in Heaven with my great grandfather Frank, and it would equal 10 years spent with him on earth.

I have my phone with me and start finding everyone on the family tree.

My family all decided to return from where they hailed in Heaven’s depiction of earth, so I am happy I can fly, as well as teleport.

I spend the day spending 5-15 minutes with each of the members of my family in the family tree, amounting to centuries of time on earth.

I received what I desired. I desperately wanted to know my roots. I wanted to know who I inherited what trait or behavior from.

I wanted to let my forefathers know what became of the seeds they sowed.

I learned the fabric that binds me and the stitches that hold me together, as well as the seamstresses that make it all happen.

I feel content.

Then I arrive back at my luxury 6 story condo and hit the keg of eggnog hard.

I look into my magic 8 ball back into earth to check on Claire and Masen.

I know it may be some time before they wake up in our heavenly home with me, so I am happy that the time is skewed.

I go to sleep and wake up next to Claire, nudging me a little before 7:00 to turn off my alarm.

I am out of it, I feel like I had been out of this world, I try to tell Claire all about it, and it makes sense to me, but she lets me know I am just mumbling nonsense again.

I try to commit my vision of, or experience in Heaven, or whatever this was to memory, so I can tell others about it, so I shut my eyes to see a little more.

Shoot. I fell asleep and dreamt I was awake.

My time in Heaven is gone. I will forget it now.

But somehow I remember blips and spurts and pieces of my time in my luxury Heaven condo, usually when I feel so awful I may pass out, or when my chest pains are so bad my vision whites out a bit.

I go to sleep meditating, trying to will myself to visit Heaven again in my dreams, and not the Hell I usually see and feel instead.

©2022 EricREDinsdale

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