September 7, 2018
Last night I had a dream where I am visiting my mom. She lives in a luxury high rise building. Only the exterior of the building is luxurious because people in this place don’t spend much time inside their apartments. They spend most of the time on their balconies and in the shared living spaces on the exterior of the building. Visitors are allowed to freely visit the balconies and shared spaces adjacent the private units. I am taking in the breathtaking view of the skyline. There is a jogging track that corkscrews around the outside the building. I am afraid of heights so I decide to stay near the pool. There are many small pools scattered around the perimeter of the building so that each resident does not have to walk far to find a pool or vista to enjoy. I walk around and visit several of the units. The view outside each unit is spectacular. There is one building in the distance which i recognize. It is slightly hidden behind dense fog it is the World Trade Center. I ask the person I’m with, “Isn’t that the World Trade Center?” The person with me answers, “Why YES!” in disbelief not that it it the World Trade Center because the World Trade Center is gone but that I have the ability to see it.
I turn inward to visit with my mom in her unit. She is counting coins which she has collected during her stay. Apparently they have a casino in the building. She tells me she doesn’t know how to play but every time she passes a table she places a coin down and walks away. The casino has now tracked her down to bring her her winnings. She has so many coins of all types of denominations including large coins of a very high value. She is rich and doesn’t know it because she doesn’t understand the value of the coins.
My mom is in a wheelchair and I decide to sit with her and take in one of the views. I notice the unit she is in is empty with absolutely no furnishings. Again, people don’t spend much time in their quarters. I notice the door handle to her unit is handicap accessible in that the door knob is a leaver and is positioned low to the ground. The door knob keeps falling off when I try to use it. I tell my mom, “I’m going to have to tell the maintenance man to fix it.” My mom then says to me, “Why do you need to close the door?”