My Flying Dream

It is my routine to join a bunch of friends after church on Sunday for coffee and treats. This Sunday, one of the ladies brought her little grandson. As soon as I saw his shoes, my heart smiled as I was transported back to a wonderful memory. (I’m sure he thought I was totally nuts when I asked if I could take a picture of them!)

When I was a kid, I had a recurring “Flying Dream”. This was the coolest dream in the whole world. I dreamt it many times. It was always exactly the same. I used to go to bed hoping that the dream would come again, and when it did, I was thrilled.

I grew up with my sister and our two friends, Mary Ann and Jimmy. We lived up on a hill, in a rural area in the town of Mill Valley. Back in those days, there were few houses to get in the way of a pretty neat view of the valley, and further away, big golden hills. As a kid, I always wondered what was on the other side of the hills, and my dream gave me the answer.

The four of us were inseparable during those years and we found all sorts of great things to do, and trouble to get into, but nothing came close to my dream. You see, my PF Flyers were magic! When I put them on, I could fly! During my waking hours, my magic shoes carried me across the fields of golden wheat and through the trees with lightening speed. But in my dream, oh my!

As I sat on the porch, and slowly (if not a bit dramatically) laced up my shoes, my sister, Mary Ann and Jimmy  stared at me with an anticipation that would definitely burst, if I didn’t hurry up! Shoes firmly in place, I walked to the edge of our driveway. We lived on a ledge of sorts and at the end of the driveway was a very steep, sloping hill. To jump off the ledge would have meant major injuries, but not with my magic shoes. I outstretched my arms in flying mode, and slowly leaned forward over the ledge.

As I did so, my feet lifted up off the ground, and I hovered in the air, like a human airplane, a smile on my face that spread from ear to ear. My sis Peggy climbed on first. She always got the best seat, given her priority status. She wrapped her arms around my neck, as Mary Ann climbed on behind her, wrapping her arms around Peg’s waist, and Jimmy behind her, grabbing Mary Ann’s waist.

And we were off! Superman had nothing on us! As we glided towards the hills across the valley, we all whooped and hollered at the top of our lungs. Swooping this way and that, the wind blowing in our hair, our house grew smaller and smaller behind us. And finally, reaching the top of the hills, we saw it!! DISNEYLAND!

My sturdy, magical shoes connected with the earth with barely a skid mark and my passengers and I ran to the gate to buy our tickets.

“Susan! Susan, time to get up! Get dressed! You’re going to be late for school!”

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About susansplace

Widowed in 2012, I am a mother and grandmother. Born in San Francisco, I now live in the town I grew up in: Mill Valley, California. I love nature photography. Just an amateur but that's OK! My goal: world peace. Got any ideas?
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6 Responses to My Flying Dream

  1. Kind of Peter Panish with kids in tow. I dreamed of flying too, but I was always solo. It was exhilarating soaring over the farm fields, but I was always afraid of the powerlines because for some reason I could never quite control my height above them to be really really safe. It was always a close call. There is probably some deep pyschological explanation for that, but it was a fun recurring dream. 🙂

  2. susansplace says:

    Oh, Lilly, that cracks me up! You reminded me, OMG, how I would dart above and below the power lines!! OMGosh — I had forgotten that, and it just came back in a flash! I might be a good candidate for a hypnotist at a really boring cocktail party. Maybe we both should go!!

  3. Laura says:

    Love that! Mine is just me, as Lilly’s is, and for whatever deep psychological reason, I am always naked. Total freedom! HA!

  4. karla mcnish says:

    I enjoyed the P. F. Flyers story so much. Must tell you that my youngest grandson, Kade, is quite convinced that he can fly and he is absolutely fearless. When he was three, my daughter, Leslie, took him and his sister out to see Cindy and Andy. They went to San Francisco, and while they were attending to parking the car at one of those parking garages, Leslie glanced over and saw him balancing on one of the railings. Wouldn’t have been too bad, except that they were three floors up!

    Kade’s father, who tends to be very protective, has never been told this story, and, undoubtably, never will be told. Keep the faith, Karla

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