Nightmares

It started like any other night has lately, with a long wait for the pain to recede after taking ineffective pain relief medication. Probably went to sleep between 1 and 2. Woke up at 3:30, had a glass of water, waited for the neighbour's sister to drive away in a car with no muffler.

Dreams are a series of random images. Random. Based loosely on things you saw that day. Occasionally I have this sense of deja vu, of prescience, based on a memory of a dream, but that's not proven or common.

In this dream, my boys and I were visiting my father in BC. Now he was much younger than he really is, much less retired, and he drove us to a mountain-top mining operation along roads that had no safety zone between them and the precipices alongside. The mining operation itself was precariously positioned between dangerous precipices. Finally, the mountain-top had minor geological activity and colourful buildups, similar to the bubbling vapour vents at Yellowstone. So after surviving all this, and the occasional worries that accompanied it, the scene changes to ground-level, a bank, where we're leaving, walking onto a parking lot with what appears to be draperies or fabrics stretched across a structure, similar to what you would find in a Moroccan Bazaar. My eldest son is ahead of everyone, and a car approaches the blind spot. It stops just in time, but he jerks back, and into the path of a much faster car that was approaching the blind spot from another direction. He is folded across the hood of the second car and thrown under the back of a delivery truck. I scream "No!" and run under the truck but cannot find him.

Brutal. 6:19am. I am awake now. I'm not going back to sleep at this point.

Needless to say, this cannot be a prescient dream, only a random jumble loosely based on the previous days observances, which in this case included us watching a movie in which a rogue cop corners suspects by corralling them with his car.

Disturbing, but a lesson: The mundane is more likely to get you than the risky. Not paying attention because there's nothing to worry about will kill you sooner than what you worry about or vigilant about.