Dreams of Emotions

Here we go.

Photo by Ajin K S on Unsplash
I dreamt that I was seated on the balcony attached to a room, enjoying the silence provided by the day. Yet, instead of being able to see my environment, I ended up staring at a concrete slab (a brick wall) painted white.

At the end was a deep, murky floodwater as high as the wall itself. Just a bit more, and the water would gush forth into the room and ruin everything in its wake.

Yet, I was indifferent, choosing to calmly return to the room, shutting the sliding door close behind me. The room was also in white and lacked furniture, looking more like a living room rather than a bedroom.

Since I can only remember this segment of the dream, it will be difficult to pen my thoughts on this, as there's only so much to work with..

If I must venture a guess, the murky waters are a representation of my feelings. I won't deny it; my feelings are all over the place right now-between the work stress and the negative news that have been piling up, there's only so much I can stomach at one go.

Maybe it's also an indication that I'm close to my limit, and just a tad bit more will send me into a nervous/emotional breakdown. In an attempt to prevent the collapse, my subconscious is nudging me to address those issues while there's still time.

The indifference? It might also be a representation of my current emotions. There's a good amount of detachment and apathy towards certain matters, to the point where I'm questioning if I'm emotionally blunted or en route to depression. Heh, I should listen to my subconscious and express those emotions through exercise instead of swimming with it.

Better yet, take a well-earned vacation interstate or abroad.

Bodies of Water

If I'm being honest, this could be in direct correlation with the previous post. Or maybe my brain is so stressed from work that it's protesting, craving some time out, leading to such a dream.

I dreamt that we were in a super bright place (read: and I mean, really bright. The kind where you'll be blinded by it). It wasn't a huge place, but rather, it was a brick-and-mortar store with a welcome counter that could be seen as soon as you set foot inside.

It was after the rain, so it made things a tad bit messier. Near the entrance was an Ikea bag full of towels, indicative that the place is a hotel or deals with accommodation. We were all huddled around the place while I leaned against the concrete structure, aptly painted white.

Not only was the atmosphere full of petrichor, but some of us were drenched, having been surprised by the sudden downpour.

Then, the camera panned to the upper floors of the place where the rooms were. Much to my surprise, two resident Shih Tzus came running over, greeting me and roaming freely. They were definitely welcoming me in their own special way. (Ngaw! So kwute!)

Even as I walked ahead, one of the Tzus clung to me. I spotted an open kitchen available for the guests to use. The way it was designed gave off a warm vibe, as if encouraging people to gather around for small chats or homemade meals.

The housekeeping team also busied itself with ensuring that everything was available and accessible. Looking down at the furry four-legged, I noticed that one of them clung to me while the other one remained near the housekeeping team and continuously barked at me.

After that, we found ourselves driving past this lush greenery with a lake.

Not too far away was a graveyard, giving off a peaceful feeling to all visitors and passersby alike. A bridge connected one part of the area to the headstones, and a building sat behind the greenery.

Okay, I'll be candor. The Shih Tzus in the dream? They are the extra replicas of the ones I had in real life when I was younger. I have no idea whether it is my subconscious reflecting its true feelings through them—or them visiting me in spirit.

The one clinging to me? That's Big Fat for you. He never exactly glued himself to me in real life, preferring his actual owners over me. Yet, he would look for me to satiate his cravings… for milk. A specific Kiwi brand, at that.

The one barking at me? That's Gangster Girl. She might have behaved like a hyper-independent child who knew how to play her cards, but that didn't mean she disliked me, though.

The lush greenery?

This might be universe's way of telling me that I've slowly recovering from the hurt that has weighed me down over the years, thus allowing me the emotional peace that my subconscious desperately needs. However, on the flip side, it could also mean that I'm craving for a break.

The lake itself? Well, it's water, and water is usually associated with peace. I'll presume that this could be a revelation that I'm about to gain balance in my waking hours. I mean, I'm not someone who intentionally seeks bodies of water, though I've been reminiscent about a specific memory of the past.

Could this lake be referring to that? The happier times?

Oh, the graveyard. Yeah, a part of me suspects that it might be me undergoing a period of transformation or letting go of something. If you ask me, it has to be that specific memory. I've wondered, on and off over the years, whether things would have changed had the variables been different.

Now that I know the other party's happy and stable, I have been toying with the idea of a silent departure. Not the literal meaning of the word, but rather fading into the background.

That said, there's another reason why I'd dream of a graveyard, but it's one that I'd rather not discuss publicly. It would bring in its wake a lot of unnecessary questions.

From Where Do We Leave

Although this isn't my first rodeo, it still packed enough of a punch to knock me off my feet into a state of confusion. Basically, today's post will touch on the topic of the death and burial of a loved one.

Adelaide Fringe, 2018

Death in the Hospital

In all honesty, it is easier on the loved ones if the deceased takes their final breath in the hospital. The necessary paperwork would be conducted with their assistance, including the issuance of an official death certificate.

That's when the postmortem comes into play.

At this stage, the next of kin (usually the spouse or registered emergency contact) would be notified. That way, they can arrange for a mortician to schedule a wake service and/or a direct cremation.

The body is usually released once the postmortem has been completed (provided the cause of death isn't suspicious), but is subjected to the signing of the release forms and the identification of the deceased.

(P.S. My memory of the process of claiming the body from the hospital is rather fuzzy. It's been years since I last dealt with this.)

The mortician would then bring the body back to the funeral home for cosmetic preparation before the wake service.

This is why one should always be prepared for their last rites. If it is expressed in a legal document, it's even better because no one can question it... and the next of kin wouldn't need to run around like a headless chicken.

The moment the services of the funeral home is engaged, the funeral director would ask for instructions on how the deceased's remains are to be handled—whether there would be a wake service or not, and if the deceased would be laid to rest or cremated. If the family is unsure of how to approach the matter, the mortician would also advise on the best course forward, taking into consideration their financial, moral, and religious situation.

Death Out of the Hospital

Depending on where the deceased was found, the process could differ slightly. It'd be best to err on the side of caution and do your own due diligence.

For the purposes of this post, I'll be discussing this from the context of them dying at home.

The next of kin's first port of call would be to call the emergency responders (your country's equivalent of 911), informing them of the death. They would then dispatch the EMTs to the said location to further assist with the situation. At the same time, the first responder would guide you on the use of the AED defibrillator or perform CPR over the phone.

The EMTs have a duty to ask whether the family would want to continue the resuscitation and inform them of the consequences spanning from that—including the possibility of blood bleeding from the eyes, nose, and mouth. The pooling of blood, you would say.

Once the mobile electrocardiogram machine confirms that the deceased no longer has a heartbeat, a representative would have to head to the nearest police station to apply for a burial permit and engage the services of a funeral home. (The body would need to be handled soonest possible due to rigor mortis, hence the urgency.)

Because the investigating officer would need to verify the death (as required by law), the scene where the body was found would need to be secured. That is, until the police issue the burial permit.

The police in charge would then receive the oral report and draft it into an official one for you to verify and sign. After that, the report would be given to the sergeant in charge to sign off (after they have been satisfied with the details) before it is forwarded to the headquarters.

Once the headquarters okays the report, the burial permit is then issued and given to the informant, giving them permission to move the body.

For this, expect to spend hours waiting at the precinct.

(P.S.S. Depending on the nature of death and age of the deceased, the police might also request that a postmortem be conducted. The sergeant in charge would contact the informant directly with the updates if further documents/procedures are needed.)

The permit allows the funeral home to transport the body for the cosmetic procedure, getting ready for the wake service, or the cremation (as per the family's wishes).

When it comes to death, there's so much paperwork to be dealt with, so this is actually not the end of it.