So we began our journey. When we arrived at the cemetery, I was surprised to discover it looked much different than I remember. At the entrance was a building much like that which accompanies a tourist attraction. It had a gift shop with tour guides and for those wanting to explore alone, maps to orient oneself.

I thought I could go right to it and find it. Where was the elegant tree? I could not find it. All I could see were level ground markers and a few small bushes. I asked the thin Hispanic clerk at the gift shop where Alfred and Esther Horschler were buried. Surely he should know. He consulted a detailed map, "Oh, that's the exit down the hall and to the left. The first grave site is number eighteen. The Horschler's spot is number fourteen."

So Laura and I hurried down to the exit. But there were no tombstones there! There was a dog and cat sale sponsored by the humane society. I thought perhaps they'd joined forces with the cemetery because when a loved one dies, it is good for the person left alone to get a pet.

The area set aside for the pet sale was fairly large. Across the way was a fence, where I could see grave markers, but that was at a distance. I didn't know how to reach it, and besides I didn't see the majestic tree which span its canopy over my grandparents' tombstone.

Do I know how to swim? I push off the boat deck with my legs, which to my surprise are stronger than I thought. I didn't quite reach the surface. So I try once again, pushing off with my feet as hard as I possibly can, also thrusting forward with my arms and hands. I am able to fling myself to the surface and to the side of another boat. Smiling women glowing with sunlight reach out and grab me aboard, where I am safe. They hug me, welcoming me with many cries of happiness. Redemption!

Why do I awake to another life entirely? Could it be because whenever someone you love dies, it is as though a part of YOU dies? Also if by some chance there is life after death, it will be like that. We will have no memory of our past life. Why I am TS could represent that I have often imagined myself to be a beautiful androgyne in the next life.

The boat, a passage from one place to another, may symbolize the birth womb. The women embrace me and I am again reconciled with life. Why women? It is from woman's womb that we are born. They symbolize the Divine Feminine capacity of birth and regeneration.

Why did a gift shop play a central role in each dream segment? We often speak of the gift of life. That can explain part two. But in part one, is it because we often need a "tour guide" to help us in our explorations of our grief? My non-verbal mind is serving me as my "tour guide".

One of the thrilling songs on Sarah Brightman's new album Time to Say Goodbye is "Tu Quieres Volver". Before I realized it meant "You Want to Fly", the rolling music was calling to mind images of the vast terrain. I became a creature with wings, flying over the relatively flat deserts of Casa Grande, and heading north to Phoenix. The craggy Superstition mountains spread beneath me for miles, and then below me, the huge network of streets interweaving and thinning until I float above green valleys. The trees below me become denser and denser until I am breathing free over the dense forests of Flagstaff.

Then I change direction, turning mid-air with incredible grace and speed. I fly south east to the rocky and green Chiricahua mountains where Cochise made his escape, and see the man-high rocks in which Laura and I played.

Changing aim again, I fly west to over the Colorado River as it winds its way from Yuma north. Green trees in Parker look delicious, as do serene riparian prairie areas. Further north is Lake Havasu and its mountains. The blue waters there are filled with many tiny boats. I spin out more north and the land turns gray with scant tiny bushes, Nevada desert!

I circled back south and flew farther west, past the river, and the mountains of boulders looked like a huge rock pile from on high. Then the grounds and trees grow greener and more lush. Salt-air stings my nostrils even this far up. Then I see the Pacific shoreline and the dock on which I've walked out to view the immense blue-green sea. In the mind, my great wings furled over it all.

How did I get those wings?

wings!

I have awakened early from a dream in which I have been housecleaning. I am doing a thorough job. Every piece of furniture has been moved out of the room. I am sitting, vacuuming with the hose, sucking over and over to get all the dirt. I always vacuum that way. Only I am at Gramma's house and it is my room there.

I wasn't certain if there was deeper symbolism in this dream, but Laura said it was obvious. Later, while in the tub taking a bath, I realised its full portent. Probing deeper, I remembered the specifics. Gramma is still alive in this dream. She is amazed at my hard work and grateful. What time of my life is this? Was I cleaning out, preparing to move on? No, there is something timeless about it. I can always return to that house in my mind. Gramma is still alive in my heart and will never die.

Looking at my relationship with her, there was some dirt. I wish she and my Mother had liked each other more. Yet I remember when the family's attitudes against my mother had influenced me too strongly. I can't remember exactly what I had said. Perhaps I didn't want to go on those court-ordered visitations. Gramma told me to remember that my Mother had given me life and my Mother deserved respect just for that. In any relationship there can be dirt. But the important thing is to recognise it, clean it up and save the love. Too often people will see only the dirt. They become blind to the underlying love that is the real foundation of the 'house'. So they mentally abandon it. I hope never to do that.