Don't you hate it when you dream something and it's so real that you have residual feelings when you wake up? So disturbing. So hard to shake it off even now.
We were at my parent's house (not a house I have ever been in before) and all but two of my siblings were there, though none of the spouses except Tarzan who was out in the fields working or something. (Did I say it made sense?) I was helping out in the...kitchen I suppose it was. The entire house was white, everything was white except the wall hangings, pictures and stuff, but the furniture and the cabinets and the floor coverings were white. Not glaring white but white. (Why that was necessary to establish in my dream I know not.) The pictures were the pictures in the frames I spent all last weekend hanging in my real life living room. I left the dream living room to go somewhere else, the bedroom maybe, through this weird process of stepping over a really high threshold, like two feet high, and opening a face framed door. When I came back a few moments later via the same process, all the pictures had been changed, they were larger and a lot were of the family but without me or any of the married siblings. There were some of people I had never heard of but were told they were great aunts and uncles and many times great grandparents. There were also a lot of pictures of stills from TV old shows. My dad told me that "my" arrangement hadn't been diverse enough and they wanted more of the nuclear family and of the extended relatives. Rather than let is go, I got all upset and we started arguing over why my graduation picture wasn't more important than "Bewitched" or "The Three Stooges" or something. This continued for a long while with me getting mad and shouting and my dad being very logical and calm, but refusing to concede a point or a picture. I woke up in the middle of a very heated tirade on my part and I still feel anxious somehow over it.
Why can't I just dream of flying like everyone else?
This is me trying to let go.