In The Recurring Nightmare (Part 1 of 3), I revisited a nightmare I began having after the space shuttle Challenger exploded almost twenty years ago. Today, I'll revisit a recurring nightmare I had even earlier in my life.
Although it's difficult to pinpoint, my fear of bears probably started in the very late 70s. I don't even know what triggered this fear, but I remember vividly the dreams it spawned. In one scene, I can see several large grizzly bears meandering along the street I grew up on. Keep in mind, this street wasn't in a rural locale, but in Toronto. I was dreadfully frightened that one of these bears would maul me, and in another dream, I remember a bear leaping through a window in our home and mauling my mother.
This fear seemed to last for years and years. I believe at some point I figured out the liklihood of bears walking the streets of Toronto were slim to none with slim on a Greyhound heading North, but there were camping trips, Cub Scout expeditions and trips to Grandma's house where bears were just waiting in the bushes to pounce.
My recurring bear nightmares have been gone for about two decades now, but as recently as three weeks ago, camping at Killarney Provincial Park with James, at about 02:00 EST on a Sunday morning, I could have sworn I heard such a bear slowly meandering through our campsite. This time, there wasn't an ounce of fear in my veins, just satisfaction that I had slayed this beast many moons ago.
