Parking level collapsed killing many at a football game.

My son and I went to a college game, and he decided to park indoors on the top floor. He parked, and I got out to pay the meter, but he was still sitting in the car doing something. It was an old wooden floor that creaked. I stood waiting to use the machine, and the parking attendant left. Another attendant decided to direct the drivers as to where to park.

He told the drivers to move their cars to the lane next to my son’s truck. And then all hell broke loose. The floor of the parking structure wobbled under the added weight. Without much warning, the floor imploded. My son and other cars disappeared to the levels below still in his car. I started to scream. The first attendant ran out of the office, screaming at the other guy who caused it. “Those cars were not supposed to park there. That was the reason it was left empty,” he yelled. I looked around to find a way down to my son, and someone told me that I had to go around. I started to run.

It happened that I had to go around the building to the opposite side, the entrance. I was crying and running. I was running and crying because I was in shock. One second I was looking at my son sitting in the truck, wondering what was taking him so long to get out, and the next minute he was gone. I prayed he was okay, but what about people below him. I ran as fast as my legs could go. Was he hurt? Was he dead or alive? I got to an area where some children were gathered and followed the line. At the end of the line, there was a broken wooden fence that opened to some train tracks. I asked a young lady if the path led to the parking lot, and she said, “No, you would have to go up one level,” and she pointed to where I should go.

I had to push through the crowd. I maneuvered my way over a fallen tree trunk and a bicycle someone parked there. A white boy came forward with his arm outstretched to assist me over it. I held on to his hand and jumped over. I told him thanks and continued running. I ran up the hill to the entrance, but when I got there, debris blocked the entry. I called out for my son, but he didn’t answer. Or, it could be that I didn’t hear him over the other people’s cries. I stood there with the others who were missing loved one. I cried and cried and woke up crying.

Please share with me your interpretation of this dream. I am curious.

Ok, I said it!