I had a dream last night about my dear friend Craig who died tragically a couple of months ago.   I don’t put a lot of stock in the mystical interpretation of dreams.   But I do  think that dreams are your brain’s attempt to make sense of things in your life.    I don’t know if this one helps in that regard or not.   All I know is that his death shook me to the core of my soul,  and I still miss him terribly.

In the dream, Craig was riding a motorcycle down a country road, and I was riding along behind him as his passenger.  It was a lovely ride.   The road was dappled with sunlight, and flanked by woods on either side.  However, the farther we ride, the darker the road became.  At some point on the ride, the road begins to narrow quite a bit, and Craig stopped the bike.   I looked over into the edge of the woods and there were two very young deer standing there, within a few yards of where we were parked.  They looked at me with eyes that were sad, frightened and lost.  I could tell they needed help, but not really sure why or how.

I got off the bike and walked over to where they were standing, and they didn’t make any attempt to run.   I saw that they were stuck somehow in a fallen fence row, and couldn’t move.   I reached down to try to untangle their legs so they could get free.  Just then I heard the growl of a big predatory cat of some kind.     “I’m taking the deer with us” I told Craig.   He said, “No, leave them.  We can’t take them on the bike.”     Not paying any attention, I picked up first one deer and then the other in a sort of a fireman’s carry.   I got on the bike and told him “Get us out of here.”   So, with me on back of the bike, holding two deer across my shoulders, he gunned the throttle and we sped off.   I suddenly became aware that we were being chased.  I looked around and saw there were three cheetahs, fangs bared, racing after us.    I told him, “Step on it!!”    “Going as fast as we can!”, he yelled.   Then he said, “Drop the deer!!  I can’t out-run them!”    “NO WAY” I hollered back at him.   Meanwhile, the cheetahs were indeed gaining on us.   I keep looking back, and every time I do, the three cheetahs are closer.  Soon they are so close I can hear them panting, full of blood-lust for fresh deer meat.    I shouted to Craig, “Where are you going??”   “Trust me, we’re almost there!!” he yelled back.   Next thing I know, the unfamiliar country road we’re riding on morphs into one that I know.  It’s the gravel road that goes up the hill to my grandfather’s old house from decades ago.   A house I knew so well as a child, and loved to visit.  My grandfather’s house was basically just a little two-room shack without running water, at the end of a gravel road in Missouri.    Except in this dream wasn’t my PaPa’s house, it was CRAIG’s house.   I can see the house up ahead, but the deer are starting to get really heavy.

We’re getting closer and closer to the gate and the fence around the yard, the cheetahs are starting to nip at the back tire on the bike, and at me too.    Just as the lead cheetah makes his killing pounce toward his prey, we speed through the gate.  At that very instant the cheetah is suddenly struck-down out of mid- air by some sort of invisible force–field around the perimeter of the yard.  Then a second later the next two cats also slam full-speed into the force field and are struck down.

We pull up to the little shack and I let the deer down, they scamper off.    Craig and I walk up on the front porch and sit down in a couple of well-worn rocking chairs, and each take a deep breath.  I look over at him, and he’s smiling so contentedly.   Then he magically produces a tray with a big pitcher of fresh lemonade and two glasses with ice, and we start to sip the lemonade.

Just then I look up and I notice that his yard is full of dozens of deer. Maybe hundreds.  They’re all just carelessly grazing, with a few of the younger ones frolicking around the sunny yard.    It’s so beautiful that tears start to well up in my eyes.   Just then, two deer walk up and stand there a second in front of the porch and stare at me.  Such beautiful eyes.  Somehow I know it’s the two we just rescued.  And I knew they were thanking us.

I turned to ask Craig a question.    “What……”    but I stopped short, because he’s gone and his now-empty rocking chair is gently rocking to a stop.

That’s when I woke up.   With tears in my eyes.   It was still the middle of the night.   I didn’t know it was even possible to cry when you’re asleep.

Turns out, it is.