September 11th
I have a lot of bad dreams, but I had a very bad dream about a week ago. I was flying in a plane, and I had a layover in the midwest somewhere. I could see out of the front of the cockpit for some reason, and as we come in for landing, I realize we are going in pretty steeply. In my dream, I begin to understand we're going to crash, and I begin to pray that somehow we make it through. I also start concentrating very hard, hoping that if I focus enough, and if I do die, I will find out what it's like to die, and what happens after death. So, in my dream, I'm concentrating really hard, and I start to get very warm, and I continue to get warm and continue concentrating until I wake up, where I am sweating and startled, but lying in my bed.So that night I didn't go back to sleep that easily. In fact, I lay awake for a long time, thinking and worrying.
Today, on the 7th anniversary of September 11th, there was discussion of "where were you" and "what were you thinking." They showed the memorials on the news, and the bagpipes were playing Amazing Grace. I teared up, as I do every time I hear that song, since it was my dad's favorite. When it came to the last memorial service, that of Flight 93, I got to thinking again. Those people knew the intentions of the terrorists on their plane, and they were brave enough to bring themselves to certain death in order to save the lives of others. Could I do that? How would you feel, looking out the window, knowing you will die in just a few short seconds? I am so afraid of death that I honestly don't even want to contemplate that further.
It ties to a thought I have about death. I've realized, in thinking about death since my dad's illness, that I wouldn't want to know that I have a certain amount of time left. I guess now I know part of what scares me about death is simply facing it. I'm not quite sure how to fix that. I better stop writing about all this now, or I won't be able to sleep tonight.