CityBeat’s Living Out Loud – Cincinnati Blog

{January 28, 2007}   What are Dreams, Really?


I’ve had all manner of dreams about my son since he passed (and one I believe was precognitive before he passed). There are some dreams that I can tell are created just because of my longing for him, but then there are others that have a very different quality to them.

In November, I had a dream wherein I knew Luke was trying to call me. As I answered the phone, I realized all of a sudden that, “No! He can’t be calling me because he is dead!” And with that thought, I pushed him away and couldn’t deal with interacting with him even in this dream.

There were a couple of other dreams like this – dreams in which I knew he was trying to communicate with me, but I’d freak out and push him away each time.

Again the quality of these kinds of dreams is different. I actually believe he is trying to reach me in these dreams.

In the week before Christmas I had a very strong dream. I was in a hospital (not as a patient) and my daughter, my mother, and miscellaneous other people were trying to tell me that Luke was not dead. It had all been a mistake. He was certainly hurt, but not dead.

I was trying to wrap my head around this (in the dream) and caught a glimpse of him in the hallway with my ex-husband, but they hurried away as if Luke had a doctor appointment.

This recurred several times, with me just catching a glimpse of him. A couple of these chance meetings found him looking longingly after me. Finally, he was about to disappear with his father yet again when I actually stamped my foot and said, “Come here, please!” out of extreme frustration.

He came to stand in front of me. He looked sheepish. I started crying and he looked away, he couldn’t stand the hurt he’d given me.

And the dream faded away.

Now, I’m either a genius at concocting a dream where I could finally allow Luke to come to me. Or else, he was the genius in somehow allowing me to know he wasn’t really dead, because only then could I allow him to come to me. Whatever.

At any rate, in my belief system, Luke is not dead at all. We are only separated and this still hurts beyond belief. But I know that our spirits will be rejoined somehow, someday.

I know, that for people with a completely different belief system, the idea that I entertain – that the dead can communicate through dreams – is pretty far fetched.

I’m just curious, what is the general consensus out there? Do any of you believe that dreams are sometimes more than mere dreams?




Leslie says:

Yes. I believe dreams are most often more than what they appear to me.

When my sister died some years back, she started appearing and talking to me in my dreams, looking at the direction that my life was taking. At first it scared me but after awhile it didn’t and through her thoughts, if that makes sense, I changed a few things in my life.

Marilyn, don’t be afraid of the dreams. You need to let Luke in.

Matt says:

I feel sorry about your loss, but dreams are just that. Nothing more.

Susan says:

You ask a question that is a hard one. I want to believe in some of my dreams but you also have nightmares. Are they also a part of some kind of reality? I just don’t know.

hard as nails says:

that sausage pizza you ate last night with all the extra cheese. that’s where dreams or whatever comes from.

Jamie says:

If you believe you have a soul, then why would believing in dreams be far fetched?

After loved ones pass on, their souls live on. They take on a different kind of life form. Your son is trying to communicate to you – wanting you to know this and to not worry about him. And the two of you will meet and will be together again when your life takes on this form.

This should be very comforting to you, Marilyn.

Bill says:

I don’t mean to be cold about it, but you are born, you live and then you die. That’s it.

Bill says:

p.s. That’s a great photo.

Jim Stanton says:

Let me say it this way.

I recently loss my mother to cancer. She died last winter. I loved her very much and since her death, she has been on my mind constantly and since her death I have lost track of how many dreams I have had about her.

When a love one passes over, constant thinking of them enters your dream cycle. I know you loved your son. Maybe consider these dreams a way to keep him alive.

Katie says:

After you have the dream, you should get up and write down what happened. You know, keep a log of your dreams.

Marilyn says:

Wow Larry, you ARE the wizard of graphics!!

I knew there would be a good percentage of folks here that would be skeptical about ‘visits from beyond’ in our dreams – as well as life beyond death.

But just to set the record straight, I do believe (and take comfort in) that Luke visited me in the few dreams that stand out. If I had to declare a religious affiliation, I am Buddhist. Therefore we believe that it is only an illusion – on this plane – that people are separate. Not! We are all interconnected.

Thanks to all for the comments — whether I agree or not, it is great to see what folks think out there!

Man of the Hour says:

“I can’t believe I ate the whole thing”

Dreams are what you had for dinner. Hard as Nails is right.

Polly says:

Marilyn is asking a really hard question and I’ve been thinking about it all morning. I’m finally coming to the conclusion I’m not smart enough to figure it out.

All I know is I dream of my parents a lot who are now gone. I can’t help but thing because they are on my mind so much, that produces the dreams. I really don’t know.

Adam says:


I’m sorry you lost your son but dreaming won’t bring him back.

David Gallaher says:

After WWII until the early ’50’s, few people had cars, so there was a lot of bus riding. Down in Nashville, I’ll never forget the times the bus driver would let me press the lever on the coin-sorting box beside him. It was a big, Wimbledon green, mysterious box that would grind and grind and grind after the lever was pressed.
That’s what dreams are, Marilyn. The mysterious sorting of the coins gathered by your senses while you are awake.
Sorry if that is too dull for you.

Heather says:

I have no belief system, so I can’t say whether Luke is trying to contact you, or whether these dreams are powerful because your sorrow is powerful. I do know I dreamed of my son a lot after he died.

I have a disorder called sleep paralysis. See, when you fall asleep, your brain releases a chemical that paralyzes your body so you don’t act out your dreams. People who sleep walk aren’t getting enough of the chemical. I have the opposite problem; I wake up and I can’t move. I can hear everything that’s going on around me, and it’s hard to breathe. But there are many levels between consciousness and unconsciousness, so often, I’m awake, but ‘m hearing things that aren’t there.

Sleep paralysis is made worse by stress; like losing my son. There were times that I could feel him in my arms, I could feel his breath on my cheek, even though I knew he was gone.

I was religious then, and it comforted me to know that my son was out there, somewhere. Now I don’t know. I hope there’s something more.

Amy says:

I agree with Jamie. Your soul lives on after you die. Marilyn, I think your son was trying to communicate with you.

Marilyn says:

David, no nothing is too dull for me, except maybe constant television or football (sorry folks)!

I do agree that the brain is a marvelous processor. I do agree that most dreams are just the night-time processing of what is going on in your waking life.

I did a quick survey here and noted that two responders believe that dreams can be more than just simple processing, and seven responders think that dreams cannot be anything approaching metaphysical. (There were about three misc comments and unsures.)

I guess I’m a bit surprised! I don’t think in the least that I’m unhinged or entertaining longing fantasies.

But that’s ok. We are all free to think what we will… Bush and the anti smoking league haven’t invaded our minds — yet!

Robert says:

“People who sleep walk aren’t getting enough of the chemical.”

………this is my kid brother. He used to get up at night. We would find him walking around outside sometimes talking to himself. Strange stuff.

Tess says:

When the LOL Girl writes a post here, men fall all over her. Dare I say they dream about her? Of course they do.

Is she real? No.

Dreams are just that. They are made up of what you’re thinking about when you’re awake.

Tuesday says:

Hi there…I Googled for hall of records, but found your page about an Psychics Reach Deceased Relatives Who Have Reearacnntid?…and have to say thanks. nice read.

hard as nails says:

yes, lol girl is a dream. ooooooooooooooohhh that oyster of hers.

Joy says:

Some things I think we as humans aren’t smart enough to know. I believe in God and I believe in an afterlife. Why wouldn’t it make sense for someone we love not to try and contact in dreams? But again, I don’t know. I’m a mere human.

Rita says:

I believe Luke is attempting to speak to you through your dreams. I have found the stronger the emotion and grief, the more difficult it is for them to show their presence – maybe it is the intensity of the grief.

When my mom died, I didn’t feel her presence for at least a year. Just One dream where she did not speak to me at all, just watching.

I spoke to a psychic regarding this. She told me my emotions (depression and anger that she was gone) were so intense she could not get through to me; she said when I needed help, she would be there for me.

I inherited her wedding and engagement ring; in fact, one year before she died she put them away in a bag with the date and my name on them). I wore them always.

One day I patted out some hamburgers and washed the dishes. I put the rings on the sink. Later, I noticed they were not on my fingers. I tore the kitchen apart – the sink, the refrigerator, shredding the hamburger thinking they were maybe there. No success. I had my elderly neighbor come over to take the sink apart. Meanwhile, I am sobbing, ripping the kitchen apart and telling mom, I had to have the rings – she had to help me because I could not live without her rings. I opened the refrigerator for probably the tenth time and literally out of thin air, one of the rings dropped to my feet. I thanked my mom but told her she had to return the second ring. At that moment, the neighbor said “look under the stove”. Now how could the ring be under the stove? I moved the stove and there was the ring in the center where the stove once sat. How could the neighbor have known that? How could a ring fall at my feet out of nowhere?

Can Luke be speaking to you? Piece of cake; my mom brought back her rings to me.

Love you. Rita

Heather says:

I used to work in a nursing home. Lots of people dying; just a fact of life there. I have seen and heard some crazy stuff. I’m the kind of person that will sooner question my own sanity than believe in ghosts, but many times, things would happen in front of several other people.

Gives me pause to think, but I remain unconvinced. I am planted firmly in the “how-the-hell-should-I-know?” category.

Larry Gross says:

“I am planted firmly in the “how-the-hell-should-I-know?” category.”

I put myself in this category also.

After my brother’s death, I dreamed of him constantly (hell, I still do) and for a long time I thought he was reaching out to me. I like to think that’s true but I don’t really know. With him on my mind so much, why wouldn’t he be in my dreams too?

Rita’s post is interesting and it makes you think but here’s another thing I probably say too often – “shit happens.”

Rita says:

I understand “shit happens” but I also understand that some times it doesn’t.

We are energy; energy never dies; it merely changes. What is so difficult to believe?

Another mom story: After a wonderful evening with the man I thought I would spend my life with, I was so happy. As I walked through my house, I saw a small scrap of paper; I picked it up; it was mom’s handwriting; it said “After the ectasy, comes the laundry”. I wish I had listened.

Bitch from Price Hill says:

“After the ectasy, comes the laundry”.

Ain’t that the truth! I’m gonna try and remember this line.

Brenda says:

Your son was very special to you and you’re thinking of him all the time. That’s why you’re dreaming of him. Let them be sweet dreams 🙂

Lakisha says:

Hes,llYeo, there are plenty of options to book print ads over onlineLook at the sources section for the webpage where you can book print ads.All the best

Jackie says:

Put me in the slot of one of those people who can’t figure this out or not smart enough to know about having souls. In this life I try to treat people the way I want to be treated and just hope for the best.

Vickie says:

I’m sort of new here and I’ve gone back and read your other posts about Luke. I know you miss him, know you were a good mother.

hard as nails says:

hello, vickie, hope you enjoy yourself – just like jean and numb do here. but you seem nicer.

Marilyn says:

I’ll add to Rita’s metaphysical thoughts here. Make of it what you will.

My father passed in December 01. We were a dsyfunctional family (aren’t most?!). We’d never been especially tight. But when my father was passing, we all rallied around and stayed by his side and allowed him to die in his home surrounded by us. This was very important to him.

A couple of months after he passed, my sister went to a psychic. This psychic told of a few things and they seemed reasonable, but not remarkable. But one last thought — almost an afterthought — the psychic left with my sister: Tell your mother not to worry about the coat.

Sister had no idea what this meant. But she later went to visit mom and told her all about the trip to the psychic. After she’d told all she could remember, she suddenly remembered what the woman had said. So she told mother, “I don’t know what this means, but she said for you not to worry about the coat.”

At that, my mother burst into tears. She couldn’t talk for a long time, but when she recovered here is what she said:

“Your father’s coat has hung in the laundry room on a hook since he died. Everytime I’d go past the coat to go outside or to do laundry, I’d smell the coat. I told myself over and over again that I need to wash that coat. But I can’t bear to do so, since it carried your father’s scent.”

Just for the record, mother had told none of us about the coat. Even if the psychic possessed the ability to read my sister’s mind, she wouldn’t have been able to pick this out, since sister had no knowledge of this.

There were many other things surrounding my father’s passing, but I’ll leave them for another time…

Jane says:

I don’t buy into the psychic stuff. They tell you little things (like the coat) in hopes that maybe somehow this odd remark will take shape somehow. I think They’re full of it.

Marilyn says:

Jane, you could well be right… or not!

Marilyn says:

A paraphrase: To those who believe, no proof is necessary. To those who don’t believe, no proof is enough.

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