On dreams and nightmares

Last night I had one of those dreams again, a dream involving my sisters and their families; the plot and the setting change, but the characters are always the same: my dad, my stepmom, my mother, and my sisters. It was a happy dream, and I woke feeling at peace, more content than I had felt in six years. The general storyline was a bit silly, as they are in most dreams, but the characters were so real I could see their faces and hear their voices. My sister Mary Beth was getting married and I was helping her get ready on the big day; everyone was dressed and ready to go, but in true Mary Beth-fashion, the bride was not: she arrived late, still in a set of blue scrubs and crocs, hair and makeup definitely not done. Fast forward to the reception, and the whole family is there--mine, hers, Nancy's--and everyone is having a great time, laughing, smiling, looking like one of those Hallmark movie endings. My nephew Joe's twins were playing hide and seek, my granddaughters were coloring and dancing, and I was so, well, happy, happier than I had been in years. Then I woke up. At first, the dream euphoria continued, as if everything had actually happened and I had just awakened from a pleasant reverie of past events. 

Suddenly though, without warning, I snapped out of it, and realized it was, after all, only a dream, and I simultaneously felt silly and angry and sad, because the reality is my sisters have not spoken to me (not kindly, anyway) in over six years; they have completely shut me and my family out of their lives and the lives of their children, as if I have never existed. If there was any wedding, I would not even know about it, let alone be invited; although Nancy's daughter and youngest son celebrated weddings this year, I was not welcome, nor was any of my family.  Joe's four boys, including the twins I have never met, will never know me or Alex or my daughters and their children. My stepmom was the glue that held our fragile family together, and when she died, so did the family; we splintered apart into our own separate worlds. And so we remain, with little left of what once existed other than a few memories, and all the worst for it. 

Theories abound as to why we dream and what these dreams mean. Some say dreams are how we process memories, they reflect life experiences, or work through difficult and unsettling emotions. Still others propose dreams have a biochemical component, or they provide a protection to prepare us to face threats and danger. I think they all have a valid basis, but regardless of why we dream what we dream, I just want someone to tell me how to stop the dreams. Unlike most of my dreams and nightmares, these recurring dreams peopled by those I used to call family are so vivid, so detailed, and so realistic I wake up believing the dream is real, and it takes me a good 30 minutes to realize it was, after all, just a dream.  

More like a nightmare. A nightmare that never ends.