Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Dreams.
I had a dream the other night that I was at a U2 show. I was right up front. It was 80s era U2, and they were singing “Pride.” Something happened though and they needed to stop the show. So the band decided to move it to an outdoor park, a big grassy area. There were tons of people there, but somehow I again ended up right up front. The area where the band was playing was small. The band was sitting on the ground, as was the entire crowd, while they waited for the sound equipment to be set up. I was literally a foot away from Bono. My best friend from high school was there too, only we were separated by a couple people—other friends from high school—and I leaned over to look at her. We didn’t have to say anything—we both knew what each other were thinking. “Can you believe this?!”
Best dream ever.
I told my son Nathaniel about it. He said, “You can tell people, ‘I was this close to Bono!’ And they’ll ask when, and you’ll say, ‘In my dreams!’”
Yeah, he can laugh. But then I reminded him I have actually been that close to Bono. I had to tell him the story of meeting U2 again. Kids! They forget all the important stuff parents tell them about.
Then last night, I had the worst dream ever. My daughter Catherine died in it. And to make it worse, in the dream, I first had a dream that she died! It was horrible. Made me glad I don’t often remember my dreams.
























