The night before last I dreamt of the very old lady dying. This adorable woman is the great-grandmother of my baby. I was at work for Alexander the Russian in his office. The phone rang. I think it was my baby mother who told me. The exact words seem never to have been heard but I suddenly knew that that kid elderly woman had expired. I am a very verbal person and it is bizarre that I do not recollect the precise words used. I hesitated – maybe I was stunned. Was I thinking how to react. Then I broke down and wept. It was a moment of great pathos. My crying was loud and utter. I was distraught to think I would never hear her again. It was embarrassing how abject my grief was – I was so helpless and infantile. I felt ashamed and yet I wondered if I was acting up to it.
In that very room I rmember Vestalia coming in 2 years ago and wailing for her dead friend. I have often thought of this old Elena dying and how I shall cry like a baby. I have told my sister this. I want her to live long and my baby to really know her.
Last night I cannot remember the earlier part of the dream. But then I was going down a hill in Great Britain – maybe London or Oxford. I wa going fast maybe in a car. I looked to the right. There was a large church surrounded by a grassy churchyard – no graves. Then there was another, then another and a fourth and maybe more. The churches were all individual. Some were a pale grey stone such as one sees in Eire. Some were dark gre y – some brown brick. All were well appointed and looked 19th century at least. t=Two of them had signs saying they were owned by Ampleforth College. fr Johnson was beside me and said in his contemptuous tone that these were all abandoned and needed to be put to a new use. I remember speaking to Fergal about unused churches in GB yesterday. I wondered if one would become the US embassy.