Sometimes dreams have no meaning. They are just a jumble of images that pass through your mind while you are sleeping. Sometimes they are happy and sometimes sad and scary. And sometimes just downright stupid. Most of the time we put no significance on them other than the fact that they are dreams.
I started having a dream when I was about nine years old and I had this same dream no less than once a week for the rest of my life, until five years ago. It was the same dream every time with no variations, always the same.
In my dream my sister and I are in this old house. It is dilapidated, falling down and filthy. We come in through the front door into a hall. I am in front of my sister and she is carrying a child. I have no idea who the child is or even if it is male or female. We look to the left and there is a fireplace that is falling down. We assume this is he living room. And to the right is a bedroom. We pass a pantry which is full of junk and turn to the right into another bedroom. We go through this bedroom into the kitchen and through the kitchen into the utility room. And everywhere we look is garbage. It is strewn all through the house. That’s as far as I ever got into the dream.
Five years ago my daughter was looking for a property to remodel and I found this house just down the road from where I worked and told her about it. We made an appointment with the owner to go look at it.
As we walked into this house, it was the house in my dreams. The woman in front was not me it was my daughter. And the woman carrying the baby was not my sister it was me. The baby was my one year old grandson.
The house was exactly as it was in my dreams. Every thing was the same except the people. As we walked through, the owner was telling us what the house needed, and one thing it needed was electrical work.
We told him we would get back to him and left. I had told my daughter for years about my dream, so when I told her that was my dream house, she knew what I was talking about.
We decided not to purchase the house, because of my dream. I was afraid that my daughter, grandson and I would perish in that house from a fire if she bought the
place.
That was five years ago and I have never had the dream again.
Over the years I have told various people about the dream. Some said I was born in the house. Others said I had lived in the house in my “other life”. Others had no idea the reason for the dream. But I believe it was a warning of impending danger for my family and me. Since I haven’t had the dream since tells me that maybe I was right.
