The Cabin in the Woods

A few years ago, one of my good friends Ann* told me that her mother Pam* was moving in with her because the mom’s boyfriend died a few months previously and she was very depressed.  Pam moved from her home in Tennessee that she shared with her boyfriend, Chris*.  I met Pam a couple of times, and while she was very nice, she was rather quiet and reserved, and I really didn’t know anything about her.

One night after not seeing Ann or Pam for a while, I had a dream.  In the dream, a short man named Mark* with dark hair and blue eyes, was sitting in a dentist’s chair in the middle of a rural cabin.  The cabin was large with an open floor plan.  There was a split-level area of the cabin with an open loft with an ornate rail around it, and a big bed with a brass headboard in the middle.  And brightly colored flowers were everywhere.

In the dream, Mark was talking to me, even though I wasn’t actually in the dream.  He wasn’t talking to a “dream me” but rather the real me.  He repeatedly told me to tell Pam that he was fine, that he was in a good place, and that he would always love her but she needed to move on.  He kept repeating it as if he wanted to make sure I didn’t forget a single detail.

The next morning, I woke up with an eerie feeling, and I called Ann and told her about my dream.  Instead of commenting, though, she said, “I’ll call you right back,” and hung up before I could say anything more.  A few minutes later, she called back and said Pam was on the other phone, then asked me to repeat my dream.

As I retold the story, Pam started crying and asked if I could draw the cabin I saw in my dream.  We hung up, and I drew a basic sketch of the cabin, then scanned and emailed it to Ann.

That afternoon, Ann called and asked me to come to her house.  I went there, and Pam was weeping.  She had a photo album on her lap, and she handed me a photo of a man.  I looked at the photo and gasped.  It was Mark!  Next, she handed me a photo of a cabin.  It was the cabin from my dreams, only without all the flowers and no dentist’s chair!

And then she told me: her boyfriend Chris was actually named Mark Christopher.  He died as a result of a tooth infection (hence the dentist’s chair).  She used to be a florist when she lived in Tennessee (which explained all the flowers).  And the day before was Chris’ birthday, and she was particularly depressed without him.  She said my dream message made her feel better than she had since she lost him.

(*Not their actual names)

Let’s talk:  If someone who was practically a stranger had a dream about a lost loved one of yours and passed a message on to you, how would you feel about it?  Would you be creeped out or feel peaceful about it?  Do you ever dream about strangers and later see them somewhere when you’re awake?