vaneramos | Dream of a shining stag

I have been trying to write down a brief dream I had, and how it connects with people I have known, but the strands are becoming complicated.

Wouter and Kathleen were two close university friends who were killed by a drunk driver in September 1984. Wouter was my roommate.

I had met Nancy and Peter on my summer job that year. They became fast friends, the only ones who offered consistent emotional support and companionship after Wouter and Kathleen's death.

In December 1984 I took Nancy and three of her friends to the cottage for New Years. Not long after we arrived, I and a fellow named Ian went down to the lake to drill a hole and haul up water. We were returning when a buck bounded from behind the far corner of the cabin and passed obliviously within three metres of us, panting heavily. Its mouth was hanging open and it moved with a lumbering, exhausted pace. Still, it crossed the frozen lake quickly enough to reach the far shore, some 500 metres away, before we could summon Nancy and the others. That was the only time I ever saw a deer near the cottage.

Nancy and Peter were married several years later. They were the only Christian friends who didn't shun me when I came out of the closet in 1996, but we have fallen out of contact since. I heard recently from a mutual friend that Peter is ill.

Last week at the cottage, I was reading Danny's book on natural dyes, Indigo, Madder and Marigold, by Trudy Van Straalen. I had read it once before, but overlooked something: the book is dedicated to the memory of her son, Wouter. The memory of Trudy's warmth and generosity suddenly overwhelmed me. About two years after Wouter and Kathleen's funerals, she came to Guelph and took their friends out to dinner because she wanted to make sure we were doing well, but that was our last contact.

The night I saw Trudy's dedication, or perhaps the next, I had an unusually vivid dream. It began with a distinct rustling sound. This must have been Danny rolling over, because I don't normally hear dreams that way. Then a beautiful eight-point stag lept out darkness and followed a peculiar curve around me. This animal was vibrant with energy, alert to my presence, and had light in its antlers. It seemed about to pause in front of me, but the dream ended after about three seconds.

Its curving path seemed significant somehow, but it has taken me a few days to figure it out: that was the curve the deer followed down from our cottage, past dark undergrowth, and was meant to remind me of a New Years spent at Lake Fletcher with Nancy. Suddenly I am aware that the previous dream I recorded here was also connected to her.

Initially, I took the book as encouragement to contact Wouter's mother. That I should do, but the imagery of this dream reminds me I have a greater debt to Nancy and Peter. It's time to overcome my aversion to old griefs and reconnect with people who have loved me well. I would like to be there for friends who supported me when no one else would.