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Of ice and sorrow
10 May 2016
No intention set

I'm looking down from an overhead view at someplace covered with ice. Everything is covered with ice. At first I thought Antarctica, but I wasn't sure. So very cold. I see a military outpost on the ice. They're probing the ice. Everything is dark. No artificial light, just the moonlight reflecting off the ice. My grandfather is with me, giving me instructions and telling me he'll keep me safe. I'm going to where he lives. It's just a small cabin, no more than 8'x10', and the interior is paneled with plywood. It reminds me of hunting cabins I've seen. There are some shelves in one corner, like a linen closet with the door removed. In another corner is a small kitchenette. There's a wooden bunk in the middle of the floor. A dirty sleeping bag is stuffed on one of the shelves. The bunk is covered with a thin woolen blanket with a faded southwestern pattern. I lie down on the bunk and cover up with the blanket. The bunk is soft and comfy, like lying on a mattress. I'm so warm. Don't understand how that could be but don't care, either, because I'm warm and sleepy. The dirty sleeping bag tumbles from the shelf. I think about covering up with it, then decide that someone else can use it, I'm fine with just the blanket and it's warm in the cabin.

I'm snuggled up against the back of a solidly built man with thick, very wavy, red hair shot through with strands of gray that glint in the dim light of the cabin. He's wearing rumpled BDUs. I love this man so much that it takes my breath away. Yet he's about to leave on a mission to the ice and I know he may not return. This is our last few minutes together before he leaves. I'm so very sad yet I'm pretending everything is fine. I'll cry after he leaves. I run my fingers through his thick hair and comment that he's got a few gray hairs now. He chuckles and says that not something you tell a guy. I laugh, too, and say I didn't think it mattered. He reaches up, takes my hand, and kisses my fingertips. After all, I say, I have been bald. You were beautiful, he says, tucking my hand against his chest. I bury my face into his back and inhale his scent. Don't leave me, I whisper, I don't think I'll be able to keep on if you're gone. No, he says, You're going to be fine, with me or without me. You have your duty and I have mine. Just hold on and know that I have always loved you with every fiber of my being and for as long as I can remember. My grief is so intense that I can barely breathe. Yet we both know that I'll smile and kiss him goodbye when he leaves and then continue on somehow with my own work as I swallow my grief.


Even as I wrote this in my journal and typed it out, I was in tears. The grief and sorrow I felt in the dream were nearly palpable.

The sense of the man was he was my spouse. In RL, spouse is blonde. I didn't see the man's face but I got a very strong vibe that it was Prince Harry and wherever he was being sent was most likely his last mission.

My grandfather passed in 1998. I've been aware of him from time to time, doing what he did when he was alive, which was look after his grandkids and keep us safe. He's been around lately, even tasking a friend of mine who passed a decade ago to keep an eye on me when Grandpa was busy. He did hunt when he was alive but did not have a hunting cabin to my knowledge. I don't know what the threat in my dream was but he apparently felt the need to tuck me someplace safe for a while.

I've tried getting this dream posted three times now and each time something happened and I had to start over again. Now we've got a thunderstorm moving through and the power went out once so I'm gonna get it posted before I lose it again. Big Grin
Thanks given by: Cassandra , twiceblessed9
Prince Harry?
What is up with all the dreams of Prince Harry?
What a sad dream. Sad
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Made me tear up, geez. I understand the feeling though. I had a dream years ago where I was eloping with a man in the Middle Ages. We were in the church to get married quickly, and my brother and his men came and killed him. I was apparently betrothed to someone else. The man, my beloved, died in my arms. I woke up with a feeling of such intense grief. I can remember the dream like it was yesterday.
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I just realized-I'm slow sometimes but I get there eventually-that the man and I were in my grandfather's cabin, a safe space where we were protected. That seems important for some reason.
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And I should add that I somehow knew that the man I was betrothed to didn't want me afterwards. I brought shame to my family, and they put me in a nunnery. I starved myself to death not long after.

Do you think that there were any elements of a past life? The dream I had was so real, I would almost bet my bottom dollar on it. At the start of the dream, I was walking up the short stairs outside of the church, and I was looking down at my rough wool skirt and boots, trying to steer clear of all the mud. It was like I was right there, nothing dreamy about it.
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Yes, safe space would seem quite important. The fact that the young man seemed to be headed someplace unsafe further supports the idea of a safe space in the cabin.
(05-11-2016, 06:46 PM)DLP Wrote: I just realized-I'm slow sometimes but I get there eventually-that the man and I were in my grandfather's cabin, a safe space where we were protected. That seems important for some reason.
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It sounds like remote viewing to some extent.
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