Dreams

I don't normally write my dreams down anymore. Not because I don't think they mean anything, but because I can usually work out what they are telling me before they fade from my mind.
This one... not so much.

I remember walking into a house, a house I've seen in my dreams about a dozen times, in various parts. Meaning, today we were in the living room. Before, I've seen the back hall, or a staircase, or the kitchen. I always know it's the same house. This was no different. We were in the living room, and my mother was there, moving around. My Aunt JoAnn was there, sitting. Mom kept pointing to things, like pictures and vases and things. I'd never seen any of them before, in dreams or real life. She pointed up at this glass filled to the brim with red liquid and said something about it being left there, and asked me (the tallest one there) to get it down. It was a stretch, and the glass tipped to one side, and my Aunt gasped, but nothing came out. When I held it lower before us, you could see it was one of those gel candles. But I was looking at it, and the container it was in was a large glass goblet, and the rim around the top was chipped and broken, and the sides had long cracks running in it. I set it down, telling this to my mother, who shrugged it off. She was filling though large paintings, in heavy frames, talking to my aunt.

I turned, looking at the mirror on the wall. If you stood at just the right angel in the light, you could see a crack running down it from top to bottom. And I could tell it was top to bottom because at the top there was a discoloration where the crack had started. It was kind of like the mirror had burned slighting, from a candle flame. I told my mother, and she got all sad and started going on about how it couldn't be cracked, and that was just terrible. I remember the words "The mirror cracked from side to side" ran through my head in the dream. I also remember thinking it looked a little like the mirror my mother has in her entryway, only bigger and with something decorative around the outside of the glass, before the plane green wood frame. So it was the only thing I recognized, somewhat.

Then my mother pulled me over to this really large painting. It had to have been about 6 feet by 6 feet plus a frame. It was blue and white, a winter scene I think. Then it changed. It was still in blues and whites, but with more gray, and it was a painting of the inside of a room, with a large fireplace, and there was an old man sitting with a few kids around him. I said "That looks a little like this room". She shushed me and looked at my Aunt, who was sitting nearby. She said "Yes, I suppose it does, but it's Aunt JoAnn's childhood forgotten teacup house." I had no idea what that meant. When I looked back at the picture, it had changed again to a cemetery scene, with the large Angel sculpture, or a large Mary (couldn't tell) and a few statue children gathered around. And then Mom handed me this strange wooded object. It looked like an old wooden nut cracker she had when I was little, which looks a little like the wooden 'bucket' for a ball and bucket toy. Only the one in my dream was an open eight. Two circles pressed together where they both had some missing, if that makes sense. And when you turned the handle, the top turned the other way.

I remember she told me something (which I heard clearly in the dream and it's fading now) about following it to the answers. She followed me outside and said something about my dad waiting on the other end with the answers.

I also remember that the mood turned very ominous at that point. Mom was frowning, and Aunt JoAnn was sitting with her head down, rubbing her fingers, like my grandmother used to do.  I nodded and started up the stone covered street toward a hill.

That was the dream, strange as it is. I have no idea what it means.