Connections

Usually when I sit down to blog, I have a plan. Something I want to write about, some topic, whatever it may be. Today I don't really have a theme or a topic. I just feel like writing.


Last night I had a dream. While not a recurring dream in and of itself; I've had many variations of this dream over the years. The dream was set on Dayton Road in Redding, Connecticut where I grew up. In the dream, I was looking for the house I grew up in. I was having a difficult time locating the house (I wasn't really walking in the dream, but kind of drifting which of course you can do when you're dreaming) because there were lots of additional houses that weren't usually there.


I was able to locate our next door neighbor's house, it looked the same. But even with their house being recognizable, I still couldn't find our house.


Finally I found it. I've had variations on this dream, where I was in my old house, even though other people now lived there and for several years it seemed like the dream was recurring. It turns out, my mother also had similar dreams.


Sometimes I wonder why I've dreamed about this house in particular, when I have lived in other places and dwellings? Probably, because, this house signifies "home." The place where I lived from the age of 8 to 16.


After to moving to California from Connecticut in 1988, it would take many years for me to return to the east coast. It wasn't until my late Great Aunt Estelle threw herself a 90th birthday celebration that I would return. It was a good 9 or so years later that my parents and I would find ourselves in front of our old house. It looked pretty much the same as it had always looked, although the new owners had painted it white.


Our next door neighbor's house, however, looked remarkably different. Joe Burke and his wife Sharon had lived next door to us for the 8 years we were in our house, with Sharon's two children - Terri and Brian. The outside of their home was always attractive, with some nice landscaping and flowers. All these years later, it was obvious to us that the Burke-Garlock family was long gone. It looked like Sanford & Son had moved in. It was quite ghetto.


Because the appearance of their former home was so scandalous, it was all my parents and I could talk about the rest of the trip and we wondered what had become of our former neighbors. For some reason, I couldn't stop thinking about Brian Garlock - the son of the family. While I didn't know Brian well, after Terri got married at 18 and ran off to California, Brian replaced his sister as our babysitter. For some reason, the memory I have etched in my mind is of Brian eating Doritos. He would put the entire chip in his mouth and chomp down. It used to make me laugh. I was unable to shake the thought of Brian and found myself thinking about him non-stop.


When I got back to Los Angeles, I was in between jobs and was asked by a friend to fill in for her at Disney while she took a trip to Maui. I was at her desk for a week and on the second day, an email came along with information about t-shirts for the remake of "The Parent Trap" - the movie that Disney was promoting at the time. In the email, it mentioned the name of the person from the marketing company who was supplying the t-shirts. Her name was Terri Garlock.


I called the phone number in the email and an older woman answered the phone. She was Terri's secretary. I told her that what I was about to say might sound strange, but I was wondering if I might know Terri. I gave her my information and 5 minutes later she called back. She was excited and relayed her conversation with Terri. It turned out, that indeed Terri was my former next-door neighbor from Connecticut. The woman told me that when she'd told Terri that I had called, that Terri was so surprised that she nearly ran off the road. I also found out, that Terri was on her way to the Disney Studios and would be there in 20 minutes.


I was like a little kid. I made sure that I was in the right spot to greet Terri when she arrived. We laughed, we hugged each other and we caught up. Terri was pregnant and told me that her first marriage hadn't worked out. She was happily married to husband #2 and I told her to never go by her old house, if she were to find herself in Connecticut, but rather remember the house the way it used to look. She thanked me and told me that her Stepdad, Joe, had told her the same thing. Then, she proceeded to tell me some really sad news.


Her brother, Brian, had been killed in an Amtrak wreck when he was 21. Her mother ran away and no one had heard from her since.


Terri then asked how my parents were doing, and revealed that she married a Jewish man and credited my Dad in making a good impression and actually influencing her choice in a spouse. Way to go, Dad.


It's funny how life turns out. We never know what will happen. Right now a lot of my friends are having babies. It seems like I'm the only person in my group of friends and family without a kid. Maybe it's got me thinking about life, and death. Or maybe it's because my parents (like everyone else's) are growing older and I find myself wondering how long I'll have them around for.


When my Great Aunt Estelle came down with dementia at the age of 94 it was devastating. However, I suppose her situation wasn't as bad compared to some others who are afflicted, even though it was terrible for us. She was as sharp as a tack until she was 94 and died at 96, not knowing who any of us were. Today, I heard from a friend who I've known since I was 5 - who is dealing with her Dad, who has Alzheimer's, and is in a home. She's having a hard time.


Do I have a point here? Not really. Just the thought that we are so connected, whether we realize it or not.