Last night, I dreamed that I was murdered. This was not the first time I have had such a dream. I have had many dreams where someone took my life, but also dreams in which I have drowned. So dreaming about my death happening in some way or another is not unusual for me – though I must say this was the first time I have dreamed of being murdered twice in one night. I had two dreams last night, one in which a crazed ax-murderer broke into our home and killed both my husband and me, and the second in which a serial killer killed one of my sisters and me, by slitting our throats. The fact that I had two such dreams in one night is very strange.
In the second dream, I was asking my killer why she killed me. My sister was saying there was so much more she still wanted to do in life, and I was saying there was so much more that I wanted to write. This is also interesting, because just yesterday, I was thinking about what I would do with all of my unfinished books and still-to-be-written books should I leave this world before they are all done. Of course, I am trying to work my way through them all as fast as I can, but I know that I may die before they are all done. I am convinced that, if I don’t write a particular book, then someone else will write it. But this was what my killer said in response: “You'll still get to write them. You’ll be writing books and articles while you are a ghost!”
Another interesting thing happened in that dream. Normally, a person who has a slit throat has only seconds left to live. This was not the case in my dream. As my sister started looking for her kids so that she could hug them one last time (we were at a grocery store when this happened), I, who did not have my children with me, did something else: I looked for a computer. I wanted to post my very last post on this blog, saying goodbye to everyone. Well, instead of a computer, I found this group of men who had a phone with Internet access, and when I told one of them I needed to post on my blog, he set it up for me on his phone. I started typing my post, describing what happened and describing my killer (what I can remember is that there was something German about her – German accent, or something). When the guy realized I’d been attacked and what I was doing, he started asking about where it’d happened and I explained things. There was one guy who heard all this and took off to where the attack had happened, probably to help my sister. Meanwhile, another guy noticed I was slowing down. Blood was pooling in my throat and I was fading. He took over typing. In what voice I had left, I told him what to type for me. And at the end, I was, like, “Goodbye, world. Thanks for having me.”
After I woke up from that dream, I could only sit there in silence. I was very moved that someone helped me to do that, even though this was just a dream and that guy only existed in my dream. But it was still an emotional thing for me, that someone would help a dying person say goodbye on her blog as she lay dying. I wonder if such a thing has ever really happened.
I also thought about my message. It seems like something I would really say if I was indeed writing my very last blog post. I’d want to thank everyone who was my friend, who loved me, who made life better and happier just by being there. I’d want to let my loved ones know I’d always be there for them even after I died, and that I was sad to leave them but would not want them to be sad I was gone. My journey came to an end. My time in this world was up. This life I was supposed to live has reached the final page and it was time to move on. I have always told my children that death is not the end; it is only a transition. Death does not mean goodbye forever. But I'd want them to know that I loved them all dearly, all my friends and family, and would want them to know that I would carry this love for them with me. I would want to say that I was grateful to everyone who accepted me into their lives despite my faults, despite my scars, despite my mistakes, and remained my friend no matter what. Thank you to everyone who forgave and forgot, and who showed kindness and compassion despite everything.
And, yes, I also would also want to say what I said in that dream. “Goodbye, world. Thanks for having me.”
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