I walked into the kitchen of the house where I grew up. It looked the same but slightly different. I couldn’t quite say what at first. Then I saw on the counter in front of the big intercom unit, a dark blue, worn leather portfolio. I thought this looked new, and decided to indulge my curiosity.
When I zipped it open I found many interesting pieces of artwork, paintings, sketches of varying sizes. They seemed to belong to my mom. They weren’t particularly “good” but definitely emotive and some seemed fairly dark. As I kept flipping through, my mom walked in, followed by roommate. They both asked what I was looking through. I explained to them how I found mom’s old art portfolio. She seemed surprised and said she has no such thing. I pulled out a couple pieces and said, “No look at these! You made these!” She checked them out and had a vague memory, at least verify her signature but then shook her head. She couldn’t remember ever drawing that well or painting so skillfully. It was weird, like her memory was blocked.
Then I noticed what was different about this kitchen. I walked to the actual kitchen area. Where the stove should’ve been was a sink but the extractor fan above the stove was there, so it was above the sink. And the sink where I remembered it should be was also right there by the window. I went back to the counters where the portfolio was and looked at the drawers underneath. They were all a different layout than I remember. The drawers knobs were all older looking.
I looked at roommate and said/asked, “We must’ve made a copy of an earlier version.” The implication is that we “copied” our old house in an older state than present day and overwrote the present state with that one. I don’t know where we were copying and overwriting… Anyway except we copied either a corrupted version where things weren’t how I remembered them. Things in the house was in transition, possibilities (my mom’s portfolio, the kitchen renos) were made concrete and things that had passed (the old drawer layout from before we moved in) were still manifested in physical form.
The two of them just looked at me dumbfounded. I think roommate understood what I said but didn’t understand the implication and reason for my excitement. The reason I was excited was because not only do I get to rifle through the basement for all the things that were packed up when we immigrated. Things like toys, documents, books that I didn’t know existed in the house, things I had no business as a kid going through but did anyways. It meant there would be other stuff down there. Other stuff as in all the possibilities from my family’s intertwined lives. I was very aware of this in the dream and so excited to be able to explore something that I thought I had already done but suddenly there was more to it. Not only that, I get to do this now with an adult’s eyes. It was an experience I couldn’t wait to have.
Now I am certain there was another significant portion to last night’s dream but I am very disappointed that I cannot remember. I vaguely remember that it was really cool.