Last night, I dreamt about Anne. She was my closest friend in Shetland, where I lived for most of my twenties, and when I moved away we spoke maybe once or twice a year on the phone and met up every five years or so. That was enough to keep the connection alive, because it was a very strong connection.
When we first met, I had been estranged from my family for several years, and my big sister had recently killed herself. I was in the middle of a meltdown; Anne was warm and kind.
I’m sitting on the grass opposite a house, but rather than a road between us, there’s a channel of water. Two seals swim up to the house and a young woman comes out to play with them. For several minutes, I watch this magical scene.
The woman comes across and I ask if the seals will let me play with them too, and she says why not? So I go, and we play, and then she invites me into her house for tea.
Inside her house, the young woman is Anne. She gives me a long, lovely hug and I tell her I love her. ‘We go way, way back,’ I say to her new partner, who seems a bit wary of me…
The rest of the dream was our tea-time together in her chaotic house, with her children running around – just exactly as our visits used to be. When I left to go on with my journey, we hugged again, such a comfortable hug, and when I woke I could still feel the warmth of her body and the smell of her hair.
It took me several moments to realise it had been a dream, and several more to remember that Anne was dead – she died nearly ten years ago.
Then I thought, what a wonderful gift that dream was, because it was as real as if we had really met; it was just as pleasurable and loving as at any other time we were together. It was also a complete surprise. I hadn’t asked for this dream, or expected it – it was given to me, by grace.
When I first met Anne, those decades ago, I had no concept of karma or past lives, but I felt that I had always known her. It wasn’t a spark of interest and a getting to know, but a moment of recognition and a reconnecting.
Now, I probably see her once every five years or so in my dreams, just as we saw each other when she was alive, and I expect I’ll meet her in some other future life… if that doesn’t sound too mad.
Have you ever had a vivid dream about someone who’s died? Or felt a karmic connection?
Jenny Alexander's blog: Writing in the House of Dreams 
What a beautiful healing dream – it certainly speaks to me of past lives (I’m descended from seals on my mother’s side).and with certain people in my life, I am sure I’ve known them forever – as you say, it’s recognition and reconnecting rather than meeting.
Yes, it’s a curious feeling/knowledge, isn’t it? I can’t think of any other friend I’ve had this experience with, and Anne and I had a very strong psychic connection. How wonderful to be descended from seals, Vicky.
Thank you, Jenny. What a beautiful blog. After reading it I am determined to ring up a couple of my old and dear friends – the ones I hardly ever see but can always ‘feel’. You have passed on the precious message of your dream!
I’m glad, Moira – connecting with old dear friends is so important and yet so easy to overlook
How lovely Jenny. Sometimes I dream about my Granddad, who was a man who never spoke words of support, but was always there to give me a powerful hug when times were hard. I named my first child after him – Douglas. The infrequent dreams are always treasured.
I get a real sense of the man from these few words, Josie – meetings with him in dreams must be treasure indeed
I sometimes have vivid dreams about my Mum and Dad. The dreams themselves are full of light and colour and I always wake feeling joyful.
Yes, the feelings you can have when waking from vivid dreams about your dear ones are just wonderful – thank you for commenting, Sue
I occasionally have very vivd dreams about people I’ve loved who have passed on. I believe that they are trying to bring me a message. Dreams are very important to me, and it’s good to see others put value in what happens during dreams :). I’m glad I’ve found your page.
Big hello, ipreferpeace – I’m glad you’ve found my page too! Dreams are such an important part of my experience that I find it hard to imagine what it must be like to live without any conscious awareness of them – and I love the little community of dreamers who come and comment here 🙂
Jenny A lovely, thoughtful blog, on the way that our emotional life with people continues, even if they are no longer around. How wonderful to wake up with such a vivid experience of the warmth of her body and the smell of her hair.
Hi Joe – that’s such an important thing to know, that our emotional life with a person continues, because it informs the ways we feel about absence and death. Thank-you for commenting 🙂
What a gorgeous post and what a gorgeous story – it gave me goosebumps. I’m so glad you had the dream – how beautiful it must have been.
It was really lovely, Abi – such a warm and happy dream
So beautiful. Would you be interested in writing a guest post on my blog about Anne?
Thank you, Victoria, I’d love to 🙂 email me about it if you’d like, author@jennyalexander.co.uk
Will do!
What a gift these dreams are Jenny. I regularly have them and often meet my relatives (thankfully no friends as yet) especially my Nan, who turns up by day too sometimes(!) But if we believe or are open to the idea of a unified field of consciousness (probably my favourite explanation) then I’m sure we keep such special bonds 🙂
I haven’t heard the expression ‘unified field of consciousness’ before, but I like it! And you raise another interesting possibility here too, about these visitations not being confined to dreaming. Thank you 🙂
Another lovely blog, Jen – so comforting to read. You must have been devastated when Anne died. My father died from motor neurone disease and couldn’t speak for the last 6 month or so of his life – I dreamed about him nearly every night after he died for a couple of weeks, and he was always speaking in my dreams. It felt lovely hearing his voice again.
How wonderful, Jennie – what a healing thing, to hear your father’s voice again after his long months of silence. Thank you for sharing.