Revisiting the Five and Dime of My Childhood
Robin B. Zeiger, Ph.D.
The dreams of the night sometimes bring us such surprising moments. I was recently treated to a special visit from my past, the Five and Dime Store of my childhood. It was the day of my son’s wedding. It was my second COVID wedding of a child that year; nothing simple about that. I was filled with so many emotions to see another one of my “babies” all grown up and ready to commit himself to a life-long soulmate.
I am a prolific dreamer, so I typically remember many dreams in a week. I always find myself fascinated and surprised by the treasures of the night sea journey. There are so many possibilities for dreams on a wedding day of a child. The following dream arrived:
I am in Chicago on Morse Avenue, where I grew up. I see stores, but I seem to be searching for a very specific one. I don’t recognize some of them. I then see one that is off in the distance and head to it. It is the five and dime store of my childhood. I enter this treasure house of interesting items. When I am inside, a young guy shows me something posted on the wall about a study. The guy has been involved in it and explains it to me.
I wake up very happy. I grew up in Chicago. My early years were blessed with stability, familiarity, and close friends. I grew up in an apartment complex near Lake Michigan and attending the same grammar school for 9 years.
Morse Avenue was an important part of my life. The dime store was a place of wonder and gifts for me and others; a place to buy presents for birthday parties and Mother’s and Father’s Day gifts. It was fun to walk the aisles and imagine. When I was old enough, I walked to Morse Avenue alone or with friends.
I remember the near-by ice cream store where I spent many a summer night savoring my cone.
There was a trick to licking a cone on a warm Chicago night; slow enough to enjoy the moment, but fast enough to catch the drips from the melting delicacy.
I remember how grown up I felt when I could finally go out to eat with friends during our school lunch break.
Several years ago, I went back to Chicago to visit an elderly and dear Uncle, who is no longer on this earth. I am blessed to have a close relationship with my childhood friend, Sue. We met in third grade and have been friends ever since. It was a blustery and bone-chilling Chicago winter day. In our minds there was no question. Sue drove me down Morse Avenue and then took me to the snow-covered beach of our childhood for a quick photo. This was a highlight of my trip that was beyond words.
In my dream, I return once again as an adult. I don’t recognize all the stores. Dreams are symbolic, and in this change, I “see” and “sense” the transformation of the years. Dime stores and Mom and Pop stores have been replaced by dollar stores, huge shopping centers and online shopping. In my dream is a reminder of an island of simplicity from the past.
I was bothered by two aspects of the dream. Firstly, I could not remember the name of the five and dime store. I am lucky I have several Chicago friends with whom I can consult. Two of the three remembered it was Charles Variety. I searched online for a photo of the store to no avail. I then discovered a photo of another Charles Variety in nearby Winnetka. This made me even happier.
The second question was a bit more profound. As a Jungian analyst, I pay attention to all the nuances of dreams. I always ask, “What does this dream bring to the dreamer that is new?” I was puzzled by the store clerk who seemed to double as a researcher, pointing out to me a report on the wall. The dream called upon me to do a bit of research via my friends and the internet. Research is a way of looking at something with a magnifying glass or using a fine-tooth comb. In the studying, we are imbuing something with importance.
Perhaps here I find a reminder of the power of our nostalgia and our childhood wonder.
When we dream, it is as if we are transported to the scenes of the night.
I am not just there to visit the store again. Instead, in my second-half-of-life, I return to “re-experience” the simple moments of life we take for granted.
On the day of my son’s wedding his soulmate, I was blessed with an experience of simple and transformative moments.
Our dreams are powerful. They remind us that the transformative moments of our lives remain deep inside to comfort and delight us.
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Robin B. Zeiger is a practicing Jungian psychoanalyst and a free-lance writer.
She is a member of the:
International Association of Analytical Psychology and the Israel Institute of Jungian Psychology. She can be reached at rbzeiger@yahoo.com.
