I had a dream about my uncle...

My uncle died when I was five. (I'm eighteen). My mother told me that he had died of a broken heart, because his mother (my Nana) had died a few weeks ago. It wasn't until I was thirteen and we were doing family trees in Spanish class and a boy was teasing me for not knowing how he died, that I brought it up again. She told me that he had died of a heroin overdose. We don't know whether it was intentional or not, and Mom never talks about it.

A few months ago, I overheard my brother ask my cousin how he died, but she told him to ask Mom. He didn't; we never talk about my uncle.

Yesterday, my friend told me that she had tried pot. She seemed like she might be thinking of other drugs, so I told her that story to convince her not to.

Last night I had a dream that I was on the phone with my uncle. He told me he had gotten a part in a play that was showing on Broadway. (In real life, he wasn't an actor). He was really excited about it, and I was happy for him. I told him we'd go.

But when I got off the phone and ran upstairs to tell my mom, she said that she was too busy and she couldn't go. She didn't want me to go all the way to New York by myself, so she told me to call my uncle back and tell him we weren't going after all. We fought about it for a while; I was frustrated that she wouldn't listen to me. But I begged and whined and told her that she hadn't ever taken me to New York (they grew up there), and finally she agreed (reluctantly) to go.

We took a train to a nearby city to catch a plane there, and we got straight off the plane in New York and onto a taxi that was supposed to take us to Broadway. We didn't even pack anything, we were in such a rush.

But the taxi was driving around these roads we got lost on once in Mexico. (That time, in real life, my dad and brother were with us, and my Mom was yelling in my ear while I was trying to listen to the gas station attendant because I was the only one who spoke Spanish). I tried to tell the driver where we were going, but there wasn't a driver there. The car was driving itself, and it wasn't taking any direction. I think that if I had jumped into the driver's seat, I could have gotten control, but I didn't know where my uncle was.

That almost reminds me of a time a few months ago, when I got sentimental and wanted to go see the graves of Nana and my uncle. But I could only find her grave, and I hadn't wanted to ask either of my parents to go with me because I was too embarrassed to explain why I wanted to go.

Anyways, we never found my uncle, and I don't remember any more of the dream, except a vague image of a theater and some papers on the ground outside. Any ideas?

I think you need to tell your mom about the dream, and visit your uncle's grave. You shouldn't be embarrassed. Doing that is a good thing. Reminds me, I have to visit the graves of two of my great-grandparents which I have never been to. Thanks!

Hi Freakier,

Oh, sad... families get so frustrating sometimes, not realizing kids *need* to talk about things, especially death, and not just be sheltered from it, so that it's a shock later on! My younger brother died of a cocaine overdose while out at sea on a fishing boat in 1986. He was only 25. They couldn't get him back to shore in order to save his life. It was a pretty awful time for the whole family, really. My sons were all teenagers and experimenting with drugs too, and I just hoped and prayed my brother's death would help them all quit, which it didn't seem to at all at first. If anything, they got into it worse for awhile, and one is still, at 36, lost in addiction. The other two, though, did seem to come to terms with the need to quit, and it has been a mild problem for them over the years. I think they had friends who committed suicide as well, though not necessarily by overdose. Their teens were a scary time! I hope your friend pays attention!

I think your dream about your uncle is very interesting. I believe in reincarnation as one option after we die, and if I dreamed that someone was getting a part in a Broadway show, I'd think that he was telling me that he was being reincarnated back into the Earth plane, and that I shouldn't worry about him. Broadway is sort of opposite the "straight and narrow" path that many religions say leads to Heaven. Also, New York is called the "Big Apple" and the apple is what landed Adam and Eve here on earth, and out of the Garden of Eden. We come here, to the Earth plane, and we are given a new role to play, one that is designed to teach us life lessons that help us grow into more complete people, more upright, more capable of making good choices for ourselves and others. I believe that wholeheartedly. And we can come here as often as we need to in order to complete that task. I think your uncle used this way to tell you that he's okay! He wants you to understand that life goes on after "death", which is just a change of location, really. You don't actually need to go to a cemetery to connect with deceased loved ones... just think about them in your heart, and send love to them. They can visit. My brother has also visited during dreams, and I understand that because he did commit suicide, he has had therapy, and also been required to watch over the people who loved him, and see the effects of his suicide on them. It's not been easy, but it is growth-productive, and this will help him in his next lifetime to not make the same mistakes.

The fact the car is driving itself, no driver, means you are feeling at very loose ends, like no one is in control of your life, or understands your need to understand death, and to have people talk to you about it. Of course, at eighteen, you really are at that transitional stage between child and adult, where it is time for YOU to start driving your own car, making your own decisions about what you believe about death, about your uncle, about how to get yourself to a cemetery if you want to. It's probably one of the hardest periods in your life in some ways.

I know how hard it is to have a mom who closes off on certain subjects, as my mother did that when I'd ask about my biological father, and it was hard to grow up wondering why he was kept such a secret! It was her pain, she didn't want to think about it, I think. She was somewhat like that about my brother's death as well, though I was an adult of forty when he died, and she simply was not open to the idea that more was going on than we see, though I'd try to help her. She'd just get angry and close down. It's not the best way, you know? We're better when we talk and learn to deal with things more openly, and certainly, that's better for the people around us as well as for ourselves.

Anyway, I wish you all the best with this. I'm sure it's difficult, and I hope you understand me when I say you have communicated with your uncle, and should take heart in him wanting you to know he's really okay. Life goes on, death is just a doorway, a change.

Take care!