DECEMBER 26, 2025 – I’ve always been fascinated by dreams, probably because by way of my particular mix of brain chemistry, I’ve always experienced remarkably vivid and memorable dreams. If I had another 10 cracks at an undergraduate education, one of them would be in psychology, with a sub-focus on the sub-conscious and un-conscious states of the mind, the latter prompting a sub-sub-study of dreams.
No formal study is required, however, to know that dreams reflect thoughts, concerns, anxieties that occupy the surface of our consciousness and also lurk in the murk of deeper recesses of our minds. But dreams also reveal much about the people who’ve influenced our lives. REM (“rapid eye movement”) sleep is when serious dreams are most likely to occur. The physiology involved in the assembly of images and their interactions during a dream cycle is surely a fascinating area of study, not for neurologists, as well as for psychologists, and personally, given the more ambiguous worlds of psychology and imagination, I would lean more in the direction of psychology/imagination and leave it to neurologists to inform me about “their world” as it pertains to dreams.
Last night I experienced a particularly vivid and detailed dream, which serves as a fine example of the splendid means by which a dream can pull together various unrelated images together to form a magnificent tapestry bearing in its totality, a colorful and meaningful image, even story, at least for the person experiencing the dream.
For someone other than the dreamer, my special feature dream last night would have zero meaning unless a frame of reference—the backdrop—is provided.
The Backdrop
- Location: Hayward, WI – the nearest town to the Red Cabin and Björnholm (actual places in reality).
- Main Setting: inside and outside the home of Tom Duffy.
- Principal Character: Tom Duffy, a “reality figure” (including being the father of current Secretary of Transportation, Sean Duffy); a (currently) 92-year-old lawyer, who, back in the day, was the BMOC (“big man on campus”) of Hayward and my friend, employer, mentor, and fellow marathon runner during the summer of 1980.
- Minor Characters: Various people unfamiliar to me.
- Background: In reality I haven’t seen Tom in years. The last time was at least 15 years ago when I encountered him and some mutual acquaintances skiing on the American Birkebeiner Trail. Last summer, however, I stopped by his office in downtown Hayward and inquired about Tom. At 92, he was still lawyering a few hours a week, mostly in the mornings, when he finds his way down to the office. I told the receptionist to greet Tom for me and vowed to drop by his home in Hayward sometime. Carol, his wife of nearly 69 years and also an avid runner and skier back in the day, had died in July, 2024.
The Dream
The dream opened as an older middle-aged woman with whom I was unacquainted (in dreamland, as well as reality), was driving me from Hayward to Tom’s home and grounds just outside of town. She told me Tom had asked about me and wanted me to visit. The woman had made arrangements for me to stop by and was providing my transportation.
Tom’s home seemed to be a throwback to that summer a lifetime ago when (in reality) I’d been a frequent guest—amazed by how for the most part a family with 11 kids (!) could function successfully. Except now (in the dream), the dozen or more people on hand were outsiders, non-family members, who were seeking advice from Tom. Just as he had back in the day (in reality), in the dream he was dispensing freely down-to-earth, practical wisdom. He was in high demand, and watched him dash from one meeting to another with troubled souls. When he finally saw me, he had little more time than to shake my hand and greet me with his signature cheerfulness. Inexplicably, however, Tom—who in reality was plenty tall—assumed “tower” status in the dream: he was no less than two feet taller than the next tallest person in the house.
“I’ll be with you in a minute,” he said frenetically before chasing off to his next counseling session. While I waited, I reminisced for a few minutes with the aide who’d arranged for my visit. In response to my positive remarks, she told how people from “all over” came to Tom to seek advice and that he never turns anyone away; always finding time and attention for everyone who needs help.
Finally, Tom parted the waters long enough to sit down opposite me at a small table. I asked him what he thought of the state of the world, whereupon, he groaned, shook his head and said, “I don’t know where it’s headed.” He furrowed his brow, and I was both curious and worried about what he’d say next. Unfortunately, he didn’t get a chance to elaborate. Another of his assistants rushed up to say someone waiting out in the yard needed help “right away.” Tom back his chair away from the table, stood up, apologized to me and ran out the door—remarkably spry, I thought, for a 92-year-old guy.
I exited the house, as well, just in time to see a cloud of smoke rising from the forest just across the road that ran past Tom’s property. Someone shouted that a forest fire was burning out of control and everyone should get away as quickly as they could.
With that, the dream ended.
But the impressions of the dream remained with me long after I woke up. In my subconsciousness, Tom Duffy’s influence on my life is deeply rooted. Yet, it’s only one of countless impressions that people all along my route have had on my life. Perhaps but a few are manifest in memorable dreams, but the influences are there nonetheless, entrenched and still shaping my life. Last night’s dream reminded me that each of us is an amalgamation of an endless stream of encounters and interactions with other people.
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© 2025 by Eric Nilsson
