A woman called Darwin

You may have noticed Mum that I deleted some posts from the blog. It was because they were too depressing. A close friend of mine died on Boxing Day. She was like a second mother to me. I was also doing essays on death and felt close to it.

Anyway I had a lucid dream last night and thought it was worth documenting. I have thought twice about this. I've dipped into Alan Clarke's diaries for example (Yes, the Thatcher loving far-right vegetarian character) and always found it irritating when he puts his dreams on paper. Anyway.

J (the deceased) rang me on my mobile whilst I was shopping. 'Can you marry M (deceased's husband) Anna tomorrow afternoon?' 'Yes' I said 'whatever you like. Take care.'
I went to their house (it wasn't actually their house but one they were living in about ten years ago) with A (deceased's daughter) and A said 'Yes, it's her voice when she speaks to you isn't it?'.

We started the ceremony, with me, M and A. A was trying to summon the ghost of a woman called Darwin. Darwin wouldn't appear. M didn't want to proceed. He said it was stupid. The wedding fell through.

Then I saw Uncle C (deceased's brother-in-law - also deceased). And M was talking to him. I approached and asked M how come he was dealing with the death of J so well. M said he was going to Brazil next week.


I think the dream is trying to tell me that I need to speak to M and A to offer support. But what about the ghost of a woman called Darwin who can't be summoned? I think Genetics, Evolution and Science have even less comfort in times of loss than telephone calls from loved ones. Even if the latter is fiction.