In 1984, like any 18-19 year old might do, I used to write out dreams that I had because I loved how they could reveal what my most prominent concerns were at the time. Like the one in which I was working back at Toys R Us (my high school gig), working a register and every time someone gave me money, I had to hand it to a gunman standing next to me. Obviously, what money I was making at the time, had immediate places to go. Simple, yet direct.
Yesterday morning, I had a very powerful dream but its abstract construction was very impressive. We no longer lived in our home. I could not tell if the world/pandemic had changed things up to become even more severe than they previously have been, or what. We moved into what seemed to be a yurt-ish tent, in a part of town where there were many of these. The neighborhood was rough with other people living in similar dwellings.
I could tell that I was not so welcome in this area. Feeling the intimidation of those around me bearing down, I did what I learned to do growing up from changing schools as often as I did. I walked right up to the biggest most threatening one there and started talking. The reception was cold. One was a tall young man with buzzed hair and camo clothing that was clearly a military outfit at one time. The other one was much shorter and seemed to be no threat, but I could tell he had the backing of the other unconditionally. Although I did not think of it at the time, this probably meant something positive overall.
“Were you in?” I asked the tall one, gesturing at his clothing. “No.” I sensed a change in pace of everything in him immediately. “But I hope to be someday.” “I was” I told him. “Ten years, was deployed during Desert Storm one year to the day of taking oath.” He immediately warmed to me, he told me about his family and his hopes. I made a couple of friends.
A day passed. The grayness of living in what seemed like Great Depression accommodations seemed like nothing that any of us would think to complain about. Looking back, it makes me wonder what the flip side was all about.
Today, we had to make a trip to our old house in Weathersfield. When we arrived, it was empty, like when you move out and there is nothing to do but sweep up with a broom. I noticed suddenly something seemed very wrong. I looked out the window and just knew that I had to be wrong. So I quickly went outside, to the garage as we had not moved anything from it yet. But the garage was GONE! Like they came the day before with excavators and demolished it and hauled it away in dumpsters. There was no concrete, there were no contents. Wiped from existence as though it never was there! I was devastated! There were so many things of mine in there: the floor jack, the impact wrench, tools, and more tools. I had to find them.
I was sure that my former landlord had something to do with it. Not because he could have anything to do with it, because he has been out of my life for 28 years now. The missing garage brought back a memory of that landlord being in hiding back in 1992. So he came to his trusted tenants and asked if he could keep his vehicles in various garages, my property that I was renting to own was one of many. I will never know if he was hiding from the IRS, a hitman, the mob, an angry ex, an angry husband, the police, or what, but I did not care. It was a simple request so I stored a vehicle. Another tenant across town, despite the landlords’ pleas, did not give permission for his garage due to work that he was doing in it at the time.
As the story goes, the following spring, that other tenant was behind on rent and was begging the landlord for some work to allow him to trade some of the back rent for work. The landlord told him, “well there is this one job, but I am not sure you would want it.” The tenant eagerly assured the landlord, “anything, just name it and I will do it.” “I need a building taken down,” he told the tenant. “Actually, it is a garage. It’s your garage.” Yes, he made him take his own garage down as retaliation for not allowing its use the year before. It was terrible. A lone concrete slab sitting behind the house with a car parked on it with roll-away toolboxes on the perimeter of the slab.
I am so moved by our ability to bond, his ability to learn what he is doing. I am impressed with how he has put all of this together and is applying his strengths in every area of his life. Our relationship is so precious to me for sure.