I have the weirdest dreams. I don’t often remember my dreams because I have to wake up out of them for that to happen, and I don’t live by an alarm clock.

We are currently trying to track down my mother’s older sister who was given up for adoption. I think I can blame part of this dream on that. In the dream, my mother was trying to track down her nephew, the son of my uncle Joe. Never mind that this nephew had a different surname. (Actually, the woman we believe to be her sister has a son with a different surname than her own.) So using some Internet database — not a genealogy site — she was somehow able to find him, and to find that his mother was Pamela Weisberger. (Aunt Pam?) By the end of the dream, he was visiting us at the old house.

And why am I dreaming that I live in my parents’ house again? And it’s their old house at that; the one my ex-sister-in-law now owns. OK, get out your psychotherapy thinking caps on this one, because it’s a doozy. My old bedroom door doesn’t close. Well, it closes, and I can slam it and try to put furniture behind it, but it always opens up again. Yeah, I’m sure it means something about privacy issues.

OK, so the tracking down the adoption (and knowing where her son is) is likely responsible for the nephew. Pam must have seeped in from her message to the IAJGS leadership mailing list yesterday about the upcoming conference. And the old house is in my dreams a lot, with that same door issue.