Wind chimes

Last night I had multiple small dreams. I don’t remember most of them, but I do know they had to do with my husband’s real life work situation and him being harassed by one of the management.

Surprisingly enough I don’t think it has anything to do with his being transgendered, or in a same sex marriage with me, but rather just because one of our supervisors is a complete selfish, asshole who targets people if they don’t like you for any reason.

The weird thing though is right before I woke up the wind must have picked up and it is a bit stormy. My final dream melted into one about me sitting around a coffee table with my parents, much like I did for most of my life when I would go over and visit them in the morning.

It was still dark outside, but all their lights were on and it had that warm glow their apartment would get. We were sitting there drinking the morning instant coffee and watching Good Morning America. I don’t recall most of what we were talking about specifically but when I was sitting there I could hear their wind chimes outside.

Mid-morning coffee with Jimbo, Mom and Dad.

My parents always had wind chimes, even when we were homeless for more than 18 months and lived in a car they had a tiny one. Sometimes the chimes would be in poor shape, but never for too long. They liked listening to them during windy days and it was fairly soothing.

I do recall in the dream that the last thing we talked about was Wolsey, and his getting harassed at work. I know they were reassuring, and if it follows true to life they would have been talking about money isn’t worth being upset, which fits into upcoming posts perfectly.

The whole time as we talked their chimes were softly chiming outside.

Being upset with my husband’s situation only lasted until I realized I could hear our wind chimes in real life. I bought two sets of wind chimes last spring. They both were to be tested to see which one I wanted to put on my parents’ grave (which surprisingly has been up over their grave and still there 7 months later). The second one we put outside our bedroom window on the deck.

This is the first time in seven months (since Wolsey and I put it up) that I heard the wind chimes move on their own. It was a soft tinkling sound that at first I wasn’t sure if it was a real sound, or just the chimes from the dream.

I laid there for a while thinking about my parents, about Wolsey’s supervisor and about how angry that supervisor makes me. The chimes surprisingly enough didn’t cause me any grief over my parents, they brought a smile to my face.

Sure, I am missing them, but there is an irrational part of me that believes they still touch my life, and always will. They loved the hubby and I both, last words out of their mouths to us was both how proud they were of us and how they loved us. I know what they would say to the hideous situation that W is in and how much they would care.

Fuck that supervisor.

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