In my dream, it was the one year anniversary of my grandfather’s death and apparently to commemorate that day, everyone in the family was supposed to come together to dig him up.
Now that might seem morbid, but in this dream, that was the custom – much like giving presents on a birthday. The plan was to dig him up to see how his first year of death treated him.
So we all gathered and the funeral home made us wait in a giant family style waiting room where there was a conveyer belt above our heads carrying what can only be described as human-sized Chipotle containers. White bottom and silver foil top. These contained the bodies that had been dug up. They rolled along on a track above us like a train around a Christmas tree, circling the room.
Then we were led into another room full of chachkes. Things like snowglobes, keychains, little vials of oil (even in the dream we weren’t sure about this one). You could buy a trinket to give as a gift to your dearly departed.
Soon the time was coming for us to give our gift to Grandaddy. We were all a little concerned that we would not be taken to the right person because none of the Chipotle containers had names or any sort of identification on them. I vividly remember thinking I should talk to the manager about improving their process.
And then an alarm went off that said we were under attack and the President’s staff had to leave immediately. As in, the President of the United States. That’s when I learned I worked at the White House because the next thing you know, I’m swimming for my life in the North China Sea.
And then I woke up.
-Karin
