Purdue Musical Organizations Meets The Hunger Games: 10 Years In

Dreams have eluded me for what seems like seven years, so I am still wondering why, today of all days, I woke up dreaming. Perhaps it's the amount of reflection that has been happening this week. (Last week, I had a 15 year high school reunion, and while we were nearby, we managed to sneak over to Purdue's campus with our kids.)

This dream was unsettling, though, and, yet, comforting in places. I'll describe it, in short, as Purdue Musical Organizations (with the folks that were in it when I was) meets The Hunger Games.

Several familiar faces (from the aforementioned PMO) met us (Willis and me) at a gathering place. We all laughed and enjoyed each other's company like time stood still since we had last seen each other. Then, we were all separated and shipped off on a really fast train to some facility that had some Starbucks-like features with undertones of corporate death. I realized, standing in this sterile place, that I had forgotten to plan ahead in any sort of fashion (bad shoes, clothes, no supplies, etc.). That's when I saw a local mom (present day) walk by with a concerned look on her face (not looking at me, just walking by), but she was clearly prepared and well-dressed for the occasion (which is hilarious because this lady is always so well-dressed and prepared).

In all this, I realized I was separated from Willis, and I had left my phone in our room (when I told Willis this part, he was like, "OH! The HORROR!"). I was realizing I might never see him again, unless it was on the battlefield where he might have to kill me. I was carrying a knife that was given to me in transit (probably by Woody Harrelson) that had more than just two dimensions that I wasn't particularly thrilled about trying to pocket.

Then, as I faced and looked out a panel of windows to realize that we were seated a tad lower than sea level, I saw some waves swell and crash over the retaining wall toward the windows. It was quite unsettling.

Then, of course, I woke up in a total panic. As the fog wore off (which took awhile, by the way), my heart started to explode with gratitude. Gratitude for not being in that place. Gratitude for realizing that I am waking up with a house full of joy, and getting ready to sneak away (just for a bit) and celebrate our ten years of marriage. Gratitude for stupid dreams that help me keep perspective.

I wonder if we'll always feel like our beginning days were just yesterday. We seem to age, but the memories sure do not.