The Joyful Dream of June 22nd

Now, this dream was a joyful experience for a few reasons - first of all, it was the first dream that I've had for about 2 months that I can remember in depth; as you've probably noticed, it has been several months since I've reported a dream on here at all, so this is big news (though not surprising, given that last summer yielded a greater amount of dreams than the previous school year as well). It was secondly a joyful experience because it was one of those dreams where you wake up feeling inexplicably cheerful and full of good will, even if the dream itself wasn't entirely cheerful. Finally, it was a cheerful dream because it was very artful, and most of the people in the dream (one could say) are and/or were.
As per the background behind the dream, ever since this past Monday, I have regained a routine and this has greatly relieved the slight monotony of summertime - I've been going to a day-time Biosciences camp, which has been really interesting; it's taught by Mr. Putnam and Ms. Chandler, and the program is run by Mr. Clifton - most of the program is spent on the campus of Wake Forest University, though we've toured many locations in the Triad Research Park downtown such as Targacept, Wake Forest Institution for Regenerative Medicine, and Wake Forest's PA school. On June 22nd, we had listened to two speakers - Dr. Ski Chilton and Chris Perry, who discussed genomics as it relates to obesity and biodiesel, respectively. Later on in the afternoon, as my mother and I exited Target, we were walking by a slightly-balding man and a little brunette boy who was skipping around the shopping cart. I was then struck by the epiphany that if my mom ever dated again, she would probably have to date a single-father, because she had mentioned the other day that she hated dating because most dates don't pay any attention to children from previous relationships - however, of course, a single father wouldn't have this attitude, given that he has a child himself. My mom is convinced that my memory of this event was manifest in the dream.
The dream itself began with my mom and I, walking down a gravel road between thick groups of trees. We seemed to be in the midst of a sort of forest, but the road signified the presence of Industry - we knew that we were not isolated in the wilderness. The sun was starting to set and we were merrily discussing our destination. The excitement was palpable, just like the comfortable heat that drizzled over our skin as we walked along, crunch crunching as we went. As we walked, a small restaurant slowly came into view at the end of the road, brightly illuminated from within by cheerful lights. As we drew nearer, I checked my cell phone and saw that my dad had texted me, asking me about how the camp had gone that day - I replaced the phone in my purse, knowing that I was far too excited to get back to him at the moment. My mom was nervous; we were coming to see one of her friends that she had not seen for a long time - I had never met him, but I had heard favorable things about his character. I had decided that I'd let her talk to him alone first before I entered the room and introduced myself - I figured that they might want to have a chance to reminisce before I made them feel obligated to discuss the present, and I also wanted to see what he looked like from afar, and to try to determine his personality thus. We had traveled to the restaurant because he worked there as a waiter.
When my mom and I entered by the main door, there were two rooms that could be accessed by swinging doors off of the foyer hallway - the one on the right (which actually had no swinging door but was an extension of the foyer), though full of tables and dining space, was empty and slightly darker than the one on the left. Behind that door, you could hear old jukebox music and chatting people waiting for their dinner. My mom slid cautiously up to that door and looked through the glass window in it, searching for her friend. She turned to me and said, "Well, aren't you coming?"
I pulled out my cell phone, "My dad just texted me a couple minutes ago; I'll reply to him real quick and then join you guys in there."
She nodded her assent, gave me a hug, and then wandered into the main dining hall. In the next couple of minutes, I restlessly wandered about the dark foyer area, trying not to peer through the window. Meanwhile, I had decided that I was not well-dressed enough for such a momentous
occasion, and I was able to withdraw from a sort of armoire a dress of my mother's which was short and black and semi-formal. Of course, there is no explanation for why an armoire with my mother's clothes in it was being housed in a restaurant.
After changing, I became impatient, and so I entered the main part of the restaurant by the swinging door, hoping that my timing would be good - however, I walked right in on my mom kissing one of the waiters, a tall fellow wearing casual clothing and a medium-length black hair-cut. Figuring that this was the friend and that I probably should not interrupt their interaction, I turned and left the room and decided to wait outside since the weather was so nice.
Eventually, my mother rejoined me on the gravel, looking happy but simultaneously troubled. I was also frustrated, because she had returned alone and I had wanted to meet the fellow.
"He's working," she said somewhat impatiently, "He can't just leave his job to come outside and meet people."
Feeling slightly resentful, I shuffled my feet as we walked back across the gravel path. After 20 yards or so, we heard the creak of the front door opening - the man dashed out onto the steps and scanned the distance with his hand over his forehead. Spotting us, he ran down the steps and across the gravel until he stood about two feet from us. He took a long look at me, seeming to compare me with my mother.
To break the awkward silence, I said, "Hello!" rather more jovially than I had intended.
He responded with a small wave and a fond smile, and he quickly fell into step between my mother and I as we walked away from the restaurant. At this point in the dream, something about his hair and his mannerisms reminded me of Robert Smith from The Cure. Underneath the reddish sky (the sun had mainly set) his skin seemed to be even paler. Looking at him, I was struck by a sense of familiarity, like when you get along miraculously well with a stranger or when your expectations of a person slide perfectly into place upon meeting them, as though you had known them all along.
One could tell that he was silent because he was overwhelmed with joy and could not find words, which was a strange thing to realize. This and the way that his eyes assumed a sort of gray sadness when he reached for my mom's hand made my heart break: he was transitory - it was here that I realized I was dreaming. Perhaps sensing this (and my imminent awakening), I quickly reached over and embraced him, silently thanking him for showing her such kindness and love. He was surprised; his eyes widened slightly but he seemed very proud, and he said something that I don't remember before I awoke with the 5th movement of Beethoven's 13th String Quartet stuck in my head, a very exquisite and sad sounding piece. I felt very happy when I woke up to have had a dream that was not anxiety-driven. Ah dreams. . .how I've missed thee!