Hillmomba Dreamin'

I had a dream we were sippin' whiskey neat--NO! Wait a minute! No I didn't! It ain't ME! That was Selena Gomez and Kygo. THEY had that dream! I had a different dream! About dimes.

I know how boring it is to hear about other people's dreams. But bear with me. There might be a point.

Early this morning, I got up and still had this dream fresh in my head. It was about a high school friend of Genius. I was standing around somewhere public, people walking by. HS Friend's mom was there, standing kind of behind/beside him, her hand on his shoulder. He reached his right hand out to me, palm up but fist closed, and it was full of dimes. Dimes trickling out between his fingers. Full. I reached out both hands to take them. I might have said something like, "Are you sure?" And he nodded.

The feeling I got from this dream was a kind of sadness, or betrayal. Nothing big. Just that something unexpected had happened, and now HS Friend wasn't getting something that he'd planned on. I think I even said, "Oh, so now you can't have..." Again. Not clear. It was like a teacher had been switched, or a coach. It was a male figure that was not what he had planned on. The only three people I recognized in that dream were me, HS Friend, and his mom. She used to be a regular contributor at the Semi Weekly Meetings of the Hillmomba Lunch Time Think Tank. But I never hung out with her, even though we went to the same high school.

So anyway, I had that dream about getting a handful of dimes. I'm always trying to make sense of things. "Huh. What does that mean? What about dimes? Tens. Am I supposed to buy $10 lottery tickets? There's not a dime ticket. I'm going to the casino Thursday. Am I supposed to put my Lightning Link on the 10 cent denomination? I wasn't even going to play it this time. I never win. Huh. Dimes? Tens? Silver? Must be just a dream."

Now I want to look up some of the details in my dream book. I'd look up blog buddy fishducky's dream she asked about a while ago, too, but I can't remember it. I guess I can scroll back through the comments.

Here's the thing. I JUST NOW thought of it, as I was typing a couple of paragraphs up, thinking about my other blog and my dime story today: I associate dimes with my dad, since I found a lot of them around the Mansion in the months after he passed away. The kid in the dream? His brother was a big deal basketball player at Newmentia, and people were looking for him to be the same. He lost his dad as he was entering high school. His dad, who was very involved with coaching him as he grew up.

Dreams are funny things.