I Dream of Mikey

November 21, 2009

Mike Abrahamsohn

Mike Abrahamsohn in our living room (May 6, 2008, 8:17 PM)

Which do I write? “This morning, I dreamed about my dear friend Mike.” Or, “This morning, my dear friend Mike appeared to me in a dream.”

Saturday morning. A child’s alarm mistakenly goes off at 7:10 and is silenced. Kay & I look at each other, roll over, and go back to sleep.

I am at some kind of wooden mansion with other people. We go around and enter a large room. Something happened earlier in the dream, but it was unremarkable and quickly forgotten. Then I notice Mike, standing in a corner, looking straight at me.

He looks hyper-real, as if he had been doctored in Photoshop. He has no blemishes. The whites of his eyes are unnaturally white. We look at each other silently.

My son Trevor (for some reason, slightly younger than he is now) is standing right in front of Mike. Mike cautiously raises his hand and tries to gently poke my son. His fingers go right through Trevor’s head, as if one or the other of them is not fully there. To me, the rest of the dream has faded into a dreamlike quality, but Mike is oddly real.

He then reaches out his hand towards me—only this time, he does not go through! We are both surprised. I feel him, he is real. Though he does not speak, I can hear his thoughts as he tries to twist and pull his own arms: “I thought I’d be able to stretch myself into another shape.” (How like him! Instead of saying, “I have a body!” like any normal person, he is trying to deform himself like a real-life Gumby.)

The room we are in has great windows down one side. I pull aside the curtains to reveal a vast man-made pond, between knee-deep and waist-deep, filled with water lilies. “Look,” I point, “remember how we tried going through that, but got all tangled up?” The memory seems real, though nothing like that ever happened, at least not literally. But we are both laughing at the memory.

Then he grabs my hand, and looks intently into my eyes. His eyes smile.

And I wake up.

Gumby plays guitar

(extracted from original image)

Jon Reid

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As an American missionary kid who grew up in Japan, I'm a child of two cultures, while not fully belonging to either. This gives me a sightly different view of the world.

12 responses to I Dream of Mikey

  1. seems like he was saying “hi” and “I’m okay”

  2. I remember years ago when my best friend died (coincidently, also named Mike), then more recently when my dad passed, there was what seemed to be a heightened sense of realness to them when they made appearances in my dreams. IN both cases there was the feeling that as I was talking, walking, and/or laughing with them that this is a special moment, but usually I couldn’t articulate why until later when I woke up.
    These days, they seem to be a more regular part of my dreamscape. Still, sometimes there is that sense of joyful melancholy as I am cognizant that the wait time between visits will considerably longer if I wake up.

  3. Samia,
    I like that. I also think the pond symbolizes our “light and momentary troubles” in this world. Could it be that the things that trouble us so much in this life, we’ll look back on and laugh?

  4. Joe,
    Wow. The only people who told me about such things are the new-agey members of my family. I am encouraged by what you share. It’s certainly not anything I’ve ever heard in large group church (though it seems like something that would be shared in small group church).

  5. I had a weird thought. If this was, in fact, no ordinary dream: Could the reason Trevor appeared younger be because this was a matrix-like construct made by Mike, and he formed the image of Trevor that was most familiar to him?

  6. Wow if anyone would put together a matrix-like construct it would be Mike. I miss him

  7. Rob, my first silly thought when I read your comment: “But Mike’s terrible with computers.”

  8. That by no means was a dream , but an actual visit from Mike per his own request . Don’t think for a moment he doesn’t miss you even tho he is in glory land.
    I have had simular experiances with other people (so many have died in my life) including a breif visit by Mike , only it was while I was awake.
    I could ‘smell’ his spirit .
    It was his way of saying hello and goodbye to me .
    I was walking thru a patch of grass to get to barefoot coffee shop and it was as if he was all of a sudden right there looking at me .

  9. Teddy, thanks for sharing — weird and cool. Lou has told me his own strange experiences, as well as ones he’s heard from the family.
    I miss him, but know that if I am blessed with a long life, when I see Mike again, it will seem short in retrospect (kind of like growing up).