A Delightful Dream – Don Hanley’s blog #30

I have had vivid dreams for years; last night, I had the most wonderful one. In the dream, I am 90 years old and dressed as I usually am these days—a maroon long-sleeved shirt and black pants—and I am sitting in a flower garden.

The flowers are in front of a small house, and a beautiful middle-aged woman is sitting in a chair like mine. She has a delightful, inquisitive smile and asks, “Did I hear you correctly? Your name is Don Hanley, and you are from the 21st century?” I nodded and started to explain, but she continued, “Is that why you are dressed so strangely?”

“Where I come from, my attire is quite common, at least for an old man. Now, to me, you are dressed funny. Where are we, and when are we?” I looked around for the first time and could see the flowers, the small white house, and similar houses in what I assumed was a village square.

“Does this place, or town, have a name? And what year is it?”

“We’re sitting in Nazareth in Galilee, and I’m sad to say, in the Roman Empire. What year? I do not know.” Again, she carefully examined my outfit and muttered a tsk, tsk sound. 

“Oh my, my name is Mary, and my husband, Joseph, is no longer with us. And we had one son, Jesus, whom the Romans murdered just two years ago and, of course, is no longer with us.”

I thought that I must be dreaming, for sure; she did say her son, ‘Jesus?’ I was sure, but I was amazed and blurted out, 

“Oh, Mary, I’m so sorry to hear that. Two deaths in so short a time that is so sad. Yet you tell it like it is not bothering you so much.” I realized I was just rambling foolishly and said, “Oh, I’m sorry for being so thoughtless. I’m sure you are still mourning.”

“Do not worry, my friend. I mourned a great deal when my Joseph died, but my very wise son, Jesus, assured me that Joseph was now living in a blissful state in union with our Father.” She looked so serene as she said this that I couldn’t help but believe her. 

“You know, Don, Jesus was so wonderfully wise. Even as a young lad, he would talk, as Joseph would say, ‘Like he just had breakfast with God.’ Now, I think maybe he did . . . 

He was delightfully thoughtful to his earthly father, Joseph, me, and everyone around him. Oh, and I’m sure Joseph is the only father he ever had.”

Sitting there, I realized we conversed in English like in my “home, century.”

Mary told me, “You speak Aramaic so well as if you were born speaking it. Now, my friend, I hope we can visit again. Now, I do need to take a nap. Will you come to see me tomorrow?”

I woke up feeling wonderfully alive and hoped I would continue this dream. So, the dream helped me to . . .

Nurture my heart and realize that writing my own menu is almost as good as feasting on the banquet.