The first dream I had of Jonathan came about a week after his death. I posted it here. It brought me comfort when I needed it the most and it made me know he was ok.
The 2nd came a week later and I chose not to mention it at the time. It wasn't that is was a nightmare or even that it scared me but it was so odd and bizarre as dreams can be, I didn't think I could begin to explain it. Plus I had taken a good dose of medicine that the Dr. had prescribed me to sleep and I figured it was drug induced. It started with the brightest light I'd ever seen in my whole life. A white bright light. And it came from an opening from somewhere like a window only it wasn't a window, I had no sense of where I was exactly. But all at once I was floating and floating down into the light and Jonathan was floating down too, I could see him, but he was a little boy, not a man at all, but a little boy. There was no sound just falling, falling, and then I woke up. Like the first dream I had of him, it was different as it was a dream but I seemed to be so aware in the dream that it was a dream but at the same time I was thinking it couldn't be because it was so real.
And then I had a dream of him last night, he was sitting here with me in my living room, he was on the couch and I was in my chair and he was talking and talking. But it was a language I couldn't understand. I didn't let on that I couldn't understand but I couldn't. He spoke calmly and every once in awhile he'd wait for my reply but I never had one and then he would talk some more. And once again, it wasn't like an ordinary dream.
So, who knows!
Dreams have always interested me. These are just so weird, not the dreams themselves but how they feel. Somehow they are different, in a way I can't really explain.