Connection

I had a vivid dream some months ago. And while most dreams ebb out into strange colours or are puzzles that we try to reassemble at breakfast time (sorry, long-suffering spouses!) this one was different in its simplicity.

I saw a man in my dream. I knew this man from church - he passed away some years ago. In this dream, he appeared not as he was in middle-age before his death, but as someone I could clearly see. That is, I could see his soul. He was full of beauty and radiance - not in a tacky TV angel way - he was simply beautiful to look at and he was young. I wanted to be near him like a child wants to follow an older, adored cousin.

In the morning my dream lingered because I could barely remember any direct interaction I had with this man during his life. He was half a generation older and moved in different circles. His mother who outlived him was a beloved aunt-like figure. She was dark-haired, dark-eyed, and short of statue. She never had a harsh word in her mouth when she babysat us, nor when we were rebellious teens. In church I'd see her, and there was always a cuddle from her, no matter if I was three or thirty-three. When I was a child, she taught me to sprinkle sugar on homegrown tomatoes and to drink strong black tea with lemon. She made pork dumplings (pelmeni) with zucchini and coriander, and in celebration of her culinary largesse, I baked tray-loads of sourdough danishes to take to the monastery to commemorate her passing. 

But why did I dream of her son? 

I told my mother about my dream. Mum said he was a kind man with a beautiful soul, and perhaps that is what my dream revealed. 

Late 19th-early 20th-century Russian icon showing a young girl named Matrona whom the Mother of God appeared to in a dream, telling her where the Kazan icon was hidden by believers during the Mongol occupation (more details here)

I wasn't entirely satisfied with the story ending there, so I spoke to his sister. His sister Helen really was the cool, older cousin figure to me. When I was in my early 20s, I lived out of home and found myself seeking comfort and familiarity. I was on the other side of the city to where I grew up, and sometimes the days seemed cold and harsh. I would walk over to her townhouse near the sea, where she lived with her (actual) cousin - my good friend from childhood. Their home was full of love and conversation. I would come over to study in peace. I would come in and open their fridge as if I were in my own home and cook the housemates dinner. 

I reached out to Helen with my dream. 

I didn't really know your brother, I said. But I had a dream about him and it brought me a lot of peace.

Helen told me that she dreamt of her brother often as well, and he really was a kind soul like my mother said. She seemed glad to talk about her brother, but I felt a little sheepish. This exercise was a bit beyond regaling a spouse at breakfast with a strange dream. 

Then.

My mum got in touch with me.

She had seen the man's widow at church, a woman she always enjoyed conversing with but whom she hadn't seen in a long time. In the course of their conversation, Mum mentioned my dream to the Widow. It slid by as an odd but not unwelcome revelation. The Widow enquired how I was, as I left the city three years ago to live in the bush, Mum (of course) got out her phone to share photographs with her.

And this is her youngest daughter, Genevieve, said Mum.

(Genevieve is three and was born out here in the country).

I have goosebumps, said the Widow. 

My husband loved children. We tried for a long time. He wanted a daughter more than anything, and the name he chose for her was Genevieve.

----

I told a priest what I had dreamt and what had happened.

Do you know why you had that dream? He asked

(I thought about the connections I had with the community, and the man's extended family that I was lucky to have around through so many stages of my life.)

The feeling I had was that the Church community is really one family, I said.

More than that, he said. 

It is a great mystery, but the Church is actually people who form one Body with Christ at the head. We are one Body with Christ through our baptism. 

----

That they all may be one; as thou, Father, art in me, and I in thee, that they also may be one in us: that the world may believe that thou hast sent me.

John 17:21