(Friday, August 4, 2022)
In the dream, I am lying in bed with my spouse Chris. Perhaps we are sleeping in a hotel, or in a large apartment complex, because I crawl out of bed and walk through the bedroom door to a large locker room.
I am naked, at least from the top. I cover my breasts with my arms and open a locker to grab a bra, underwear and daytime clothes. It’s early enough in the day that the locker room is empty of other people, although I hear them speaking in connected rooms.
When we are both dressed, we head out to our car with our two children. It is at this point of the dream that I realize we are African American. The children are small, one boy and one girl. The vehicle is old but functional, all we can afford. Perhaps we live in low income, subsidized housing. The back seat of the car is folded down, and the children lie flat. I have some anxiety about their safety, so I don’t want them to be visible. I love them.
When I wake up from the dream, it feels like a past life that Chris and I shared. Or a life that is somehow connected to this one, but very different.