There are quite a number of people whose departure from this life to the next has saddened me in some way this year. I guess, just as you can't predict when someone is going to go, you can't really predict when it's going to hit you. Or hit you again.
Last night I dreamed that I was invited to see Lloyd's house. I'm pretty sure he didn't live in a British terraced house (known as a row-house to us Yanks) relocated to Pennsylvania, but if he had, it might have looked like the one in my dream. In my dream I walked up the steps, through the front door, and straight to the back of the house where his study was. Somehow I knew that was where his study was. The door, which had one of those textured-glass windows in it, was ajar, and the light was on.
I entered slowly, reverently, almost expecting Lloyd to be sitting in there, working on a book. Someone was in there--one of the publishers or somebody who had been involved in getting me there--and everything seemed to be exactly as Lloyd had left it and exactly as I had expected it . . . but Lloyd himself wasn't there at all. I thought how ironic it was that I had actually been invited to his house but had never gotten to meet him in person. And I started to sob.
Clearly this dream was triggered by something I got in the mail yesterday, which I didn't read until I got home from work at 11.30pm. It was an invitation from a publisher to "light refreshments" at an establishment in New York City, in honour of Lloyd. I had half-imagined that someone might have found out about me while going through Lloyd's paraphernalia, but I didn't really expect anyone to do anything about it. I was kind of stunned and overwhelmed and flattered.
A publisher is going to be there. And some literary agents. I went to bed wondering if it would be totally tacky to go network at an event in memory of someone who had fairly recently died. But I guess my reasons for going wouldn't be entirely mercenary. I think the dream proved it.
8 comments:
You should definitely go if you can. The networking will happen incidentally on its own and you will have a singular, unique experience.
This is exactly the kind of serendipitous thing that the Lord does for us sometimes. Your whole story, dream and all, smacks of the Holy Spirit.
Go if you can. Be encouraged and see what He has for you there.
This post really moved me. I've been coping with my own feelings and thoughts about death (post to come real soon), and this post hit me square between the eyes. I felt the sadness of your dream, to walk into a room that truly belonged to the person whose spirit you have loved, and yet to not feel their spirit there.
Now that is truly amazing.... Can you believe that he obviously hadn't thrown away what you had written him?! Wow....
So you're not really doing this?
http://www.theonion.com/content/news_briefs/ceos_funeral_a_networking
Go for it and it is a way to share your faith and be an encouragement to someone in this situation in remembering Lloyd's life. Do well and make the most out of every opportunity.
Barry--I went straight to work and requested time off. I have to make a trip to the NYC area soon anyway, so I'm just going to lump it all in together if I can. I felt something sort of surreal and serendipitous in the whole thing, too. (Oh. Well, 'cause part of it WAS a dream. Right.)
Christianne--I'll be really interested to read your next post. Thanks for feeling this one with me.
Mom--I can't believe it in the sense that it was stuff I had sent him, but I can believe it of Lloyd. I think he was that type of person.
Dave--um, NO?
Scott--thanks for the well-wishes.
Mom--I should say on second thought that most likely, even if Lloyd did for some reason save his correspondent, the people who invited me most likely just copied his Christmas card list.
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