This morning I dreamed Jane. I had been dozing, sleeping not very well. In my dream, Jane and Tyl were with me. They were goofing about in an alley. Jane was swinging a bottle from her fingers and then threw it along the alley. She hurt her finger. Then she was standing up looking at her hand held in front of her. I went up to her to comfort her.
As she looked at her fingers, Jane said, “They look like my fingers”. I think I just knew that the rest of the sentence was “even though they aren’t really”. I think the pain in her fingers was gone by that stage, replaced by something bigger. I wrapped my arms around her and held her and she nestled into me. Jane felt and was just how she was. Vividly real, present, alive in my dream.
Then my damned radio alarm turned on Morning Report.
3 replies on “My Dream of Jane”
I dreamt about Jane last night too. It was very strange – everyone knew she was dead, but she still looked alive. I kept trying to understand when it would be that she was really dead, as in, not there in front of us. The answer didn’t come…
The hand thing is interesting cause for many years Kat and I have noticed what beautiful hands Jane had and we had often mentioned it to her or each other (weird I know but I think many people (esp women) spend time envying others or rating their own bits of body!!) Jane’s hands were (or maybe still are somewhere, small and beautiful with slim fingers and perfect nails. She religiously put sun block on them (and her face) everyday and got me started on that ritual, not just vanity but preventative too. She didn’t wear rings, which made her different from nearly everyone I know. Her hands were always cool – not hot like mine. She made a silver ring in a jewellery class at Whitirea and gave it to me. I like to think she made it for me as she didn’t wear rings. Inside it are her initials JKS and the date 18.5.01. She came round to my new flat on the 19th, gave me the ring and then spent all day scrubbing out the really filthy stove….she wore rubber gloves of course. I put the ring on that day and have not stopped wearing it since. The last time I saw Jane in the coffin I looked and looked at her hands.
Thank you for this beautiful reflection, Rogan. It reminds me of many moments with Jane’s hands, too. Touching me, doing practical things strongly and capably, being expressive or just at rest, always with SPF30.
You write nicely, Rogan.