But then, in one dream, we came to an odd place. It looked like the eastern U.S. In a deep valley full of hardwood forest, I parked and walked up the valley, coming to a picturesque old cemetary, neatly kept. I stopped to chat with the caretaker, who was weeding near the entrance. Wandering through, I came upon a tomb standing open, and entered. There were marble crypts there, the kind like boxes with marble tops, and the first one by the door said "Layne Grey Beckman" on side of the marble cap. It was a very pleasant thing, finding that Mother now had her own crypt. But then I walked over to the next one, and found it was for Lia Gray Anderson. (The similar middle names have only struck me as I write this.) And oddly, a large number of Lia's handmade quilts were neatly hung beside the tomb, as if she were taking them with her. There were two more crypts, and I wondered if I might find Jana occupied one, or if they were empty. At that point, it seemed so pleasant to be in that cozy little marble room, admid friends, that I picked one of the quilts off the rail (the same one Lia had once accidentally left at my house) and wrapped up in it, feeling very contented, and lay down on the top of her crypt. And in my dream, I became very sleepy and fell asleep, waking much later, wondering what time it was. And after I neatly folded and put the quilt back, I walked outside, and saw it was almost dark, the sky on the dark end of twilight. I was annoyed, not having intended to sleep so long, and now needed to get back to the car. And there was no time to explore the cemetary, since it was getting dark. I got into Nightwind and started to head back, and noticed the trees were somehow thicker, and there seemed to be no signs of habitation, any more. The road was overgrown, and I found that reassuring, that vegetation was taking back its own. And then I noticed something odd. It wasn't getting darker, but lighter. I hadn't napped, I had slept the whole night! The twilight was dawn, not dusk. I could have stayed longer, checked the cemetary, spent a bit more time at the crypt. But I didn't turn back, but found myself keeping on the road, which got more and more twisty and narrow and overgrown, until I finally woke up, and it was morning in the waking world.
I find myself musing over this one. I've always liked cemetaries, but cuddling up for a contented night sleeping with a couple of the most important of my dear departed in a crypt is -- thought provoking. While I doubt I'm quite ready to join them yet, it certainly seems I find the idea reassuring on some levels.