Dream of:01 February 1989 "Bomb In The Church"
I was riding in the back seat of a crowded car being driven through a large city by my father.My brother Chris (1957-1974) , my paternal grandmother Mabel (born 1908) , my maternal grandfather Liston (1897-1966) and my paternal great-uncle Adolph (1894-1974) were also in the car.
As I observed the buildings around us, we passed a large industrial complex containing many complicated-looking buildings. Since I was having difficulty seeing, I asked my father if I could take off the sun roof. He looked surprised, as if he hadn't even known the car had a sun roof. He gave his approval, and I pulled off the sun roof.
Chris spoke a bit in a staccato and almost unintelligible voice. I thought someone needed to spend some time with him to teach him to talk better.
My father pulled up in front of a large red-brick church which looked more like a large cathedral. I thought this city had once been bombed in a war through which the church had survived. I knew my father used to live in this city and I asked him if he had ever preached at the church. He responded that he had. Although the church was obviously no longer in use, everyone stepped out of the car and walked inside.
Once inside, I found a paper rack in which one paper bore the date 1965, and I told the others that no one had been in this church since 1965. What I really meant, however, was that no one had brought a paper into the church since 1965.
When my grandmother Mabel walked up some stairs, I followed her, knocking down the many cobwebs as I ascended the stairs, until I finally reached the room which she had entered.
I walked into a spacious high-ceilinged room where pews had been set up. Some of the other members of my family, including perhaps my grandfather Liston, were already sitting in the pews. When everyone finally stood up to leave, there was one person among us who I didn't want to go with us. When that person reached the front door of the church, and the rest of us had exited, I gave that person something which looked like a postage stamp and I shut the door so that the person was left inside the church. A large explosion followed from behind the door. I had actually given the person a powerful bomb which had exploded.
The unconsious mind is the the part of the psyche where our memories are stored. These memories
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