From ghoulies and ghosties
And long-leggedy beasties
And things that go bump in the night,
Good Lord, deliver us!
-Traditional Scottish Prayer
Over the years, I have had a recurring dream in which it feels like I am being levitated up over my bed and floating around a bit before awakening and wondering about the sensation. Virtually always, it occurs when I’m alone. Not long ago, it happened again when Joel was out of town. I felt that familiar prickly sensation of being lifted up as if I were as light as a feather. This time I was determined to keep my eyes open and observe the phenomenon.
I saw that I was in a strange room with some other person in the bed with me (another woman…). I floated up to the ceiling and then flipped over to gently land face down in a pile of laundry (?) in the corner of the room. At which point I awoke and found myself back in my own bed.
The thing about this recurring dream is that I actually physically feel like I’m being lifted up and floating. It’s an eerie but not unpleasant sensation, and so very real. Why does it keep happening to me? What does it mean?
The reason I mention this strange phenomenon is because there is a slightly different version of it that happened to me just last night. This one involves someone getting into bed with me; I actually felt the sensation and awoke with a start, knowing that Joel was not there.
The burglar alarm was on, and of course, there was nobody there. Not even the cats, that have been roaming the house at night since our ongoing kitchen renovations.
I once read a book called “Aliens” which suggested that people were actually being levitated up to spaceships to be examined and experimented upon. Thinking about that is creepy, but I don’t believe for a minute that it’s true.
Ghosts? I recently discovered some interesting background about our 1850’s full tester bed. We inherited it from Joel’s first cousin once removed, Eddith Crow Cooke; she was like another mother to him, and we called her “Tootsie”.
The bed was purchased in the early 1900’s for $7 by her grandfather Crow in New Orleans. Upon getting it home to Texas, he discovered that it was too tall for their room, so HE CUT THE TOP OFF. Ack! How I wish he had kept it to reunite it with the four posters!
I learned that not only was Tootsie born in this bed (in Henderson, TX), but that her grandmother had died in it. Is it her spirit which hovers around and messes with me? Am I not making the bed up right? Was she the woman in my dream?
Not long after Tootsie was born, her father, Douglas, was shot to death at the courthouse by his estranged brother in law. Maybe it’s he who is messing with me? Something to think about.
Looking at the clock when I awoke, it was right at 4 a.m. Because I was so intrigued by it all, it took me awhile to get back to sleep. Happily, I had nothing pressing this morning, so I was able to grab a few extra winks.
I think I’ll journal this phenomenon over the years to see if there is some pattern I can discern. Has anyone else out there experienced this same sort of thing? I would love to compare notes!
Note: pewperson will return on August 13