Where the Past and Present Meet

"I know I'm dreaming. But it feels like more than that. It feels like a memory." – Oblivion (Film, 2013) 

I've been dreaming about people from high school a lot lately. It isn't as though I haven't dreamt of them before. I have. When you attend boarding school, many of those people become as family or, at the very least, more than mere friends.

My dreams are vivid and strange. Like most, they are permeated with images of the present and the past.

In one, I'm wandering around my town in apparent search of my car. Not knowing where I parked it, I decide to walk home – stopping along the way to take a photograph of an historic building decorated for Christmas. I take the photograph and, remembering where my car is located, I head back into downtown. There, on a restaurant boat on DeGray Lake, I bump into a classmate. (Note: DeGray Lake is 15 miles from downtown, but... whatever. In my dream, our town is on the lake.) I discover that for quite some years, he's kept a boat on the lake and he and his family regularly vacation here. I chastise him for not letting me know he's been in and out of town all these years. We speak of our families and he tells me how proud I should be of my boys. Then we part ways and, as I finally return to my car, I stop in the parking lot where an elderly man I do not know serves me stew out of a crockpot located in the trunk of his car.

While the dreams make no sense of any kind, with 2017 looming, I am beginning to develop a theory as to why I'm suddenly dreaming about these particular people.

This next year will mark 25 years since my high school graduation. It's a milestone – an odd one since I don't feel old.

This next year also marks the beginning of my youngest's senior year of high school. This past week we designed and ordered his class ring. Again, I don't feel this old.

While I don't feel older, the reality is that I am. Perhaps a part of me is beginning to long for the days of my youth. Consciously, I do miss Kenya... though I don't believe I truly miss being sixteen again. Even in an idyllic location, high school is, well, high school.

This is likely why, in my dreams, the past is aligning more closely with the present.

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