Paul Coca

My Sister is Not Happy

I have heard many beautiful and healing accounts of people being with deceased loved ones in lucid dreams. I too have had such wonderful dreams of my mother who died over twenty years ago. However, not all lucid dreams of the deceased are pleasant. This was one such lucid dream of my sister Amanda who died recently (November 2014). On February 20, 2016 I had the following dream.

I am vacationing with some people. I may be with my wife R and our kids but I distinctly remember my sister Amanda and her ex-husband J. (My sister and her ex are younger than they would currently be; they look like they are in their twenties.) We are staying in a motel, but it is time to leave so we pack up and move out.

For some reason, we have to return to that room to get something. However, it looks like someone else is already staying here; we hadn’t been gone long. The new tenants are not currently in the room but there is evidence that someone has been staying here such as hair trimmings on a counter-top and some grooming supplies — a blow dryer and hair brush.

I feel awkward about being here so we decide it is best that we leave. We are walking down a narrow hallway— Amanda and J are ahead of me. As we get to the door I have the realization that this must be a dream because I know that my sister Amanda is gone. I become lucid and I approach my sister asking her if she knows that she is dead; I can see some evidence of bruising on her face from the car accident.

I ask her, “What is it like to be dead?”

She is getting irritated at me and acknowledges that she knows she is dead. She tells me that she has passed on to the other side.

“Are you happy there?” I ask, hoping to feel relieved that she says yes.

Instead, she responds, “No! I have become irritable and bitter and angry!”

I comment that it sounds like she is describing me—this is how I feel about her death. Hearing this makes her even more angry and she starts aggressively talking at me. I can’t understand what she is saying but as she continues to yell at me she looks more like my friend G who has recently moved with his family to Panama…

 

Jeff Dobkin

Dreams and the Deceased

I‘ve had several different dreams involving deceased loved ones. In these dreams I’m talking with the deceased one either in person or on the telephone and when I remember that this person is deceased I also realize that I’m dreaming (the point at which the dream becomes lucid).

In the past I used to tell the person they had died and that this is a dream and they’re not real but this has unpleasant results such as a nightmare or the person becomes quiet and appears sad or confused. I’ve since learned not to ever tell a deceased person in a dream that they’ve died but instead tell them that they have been away for a long time, that they’re missed and that I’m glad to see them again.

I know that my lucid dreams have a limited amount of time so I try to converse as much as possible before the dream ends. In one particular dream like this I was talking to my deceased grandfather about a girlfriend that had recently died and asked him if he had seen her. He said yes. When I asked my grandfather to describe her to me he said a few things that were correct but then said that she had crooked teeth (which she didn’t). I told him he must have been mistaken about the crooked teeth but he was pretty sure of what he said.

After my cat passed away a few years ago I’ve had many lucid dreams where I saw him again, sometimes in locations he’s never been to (i.e. dreaming I’m at my parent’s house). Instead of focusing on the fact that I‘m dreaming, I interacted with my cat, petted him and told him he’s been missed. In one dream in particular my cat was talking with me and I thought, “Wow, what a novelty – this is the only cat that can talk.” I don’t remember what the conversation was though.

 

 

Tina Clark

Lucy

First some background: An acquaintance of my sister‘s was getting rid of his Tibetan Terrier, Lucy, because he said they weren‘t bonding, and she wouldn‘t kiss him, so I adopted her. The day he dropped her off at my house, she sat at the front door for hours waiting for him to come back. He may not have felt bonded to her, but it certainly appeared that she felt bonded to him. After a few hours, she realized he wasn‘t coming back, and after some time, she accepted the fact.

After that, Lucy and I became very close. Lucy was an amazing dog, so kind and gentle. I used to say she was a Bodhisattva. She just seemed like such an old, wise soul. However, she was shy and somewhat withdrawn. And no, she wasn‘t a kisser. Some dogs just aren‘t. I never took that to mean she didn‘t love me.

After we had been together for a few years, Lucy developed rheumatoid arthritis. At first we were able to control her pain and enhance her range of motion and quality of life with medication and weekly acupuncture treatments. But after a couple of years, the arthritis became too painful, and she was barely able to stand. I made the heartbreaking, but I believe right, decision to let her go.

A couple of days after Lucy passed, I had a dream, excerpted below from my dream journal:

3/28/07, Lucy

I‘m in bed, but the bed is in the living room between the sofa and the desk. I notice it‘s the wrong place for the bed and realize I‘m dreaming. I then decide to try to see Lucy, so I throw off the covers, get out of bed, and call, “Lucy, Lucy.”

I walk around the bed and there she is walking toward me. It is so real. I get down on the floor next to her and she lies down and starts kissing me big time–not excited kissing but very calm. I tell her I love her and then move my head, and my hair falls in my face and into my eyes, so I‘m afraid I can‘t see her and so she will disappear.

I say, “Don‘t go,” and get the hair out of my eyes and she is still there. We spend a little more time. I am stroking her and talking to her. It is very loving and very real, and then I wake up.