Last night I saw my grandmother in my dreams (she passed away on October 5, 2013). I had moved to a new home and stood watching a honey-toned, elderly woman rock on a porch swing across the street. She looks like Grandma…wait, no, that’s her sister!
And when my dreamself realized that I had a piece of my grandmother back close to me, I ran out of my house, overjoyed. She was headed through her own door when I saw her begin to fall.
And before I could reach her, the edges of my dream faded into the light of morning. I woke up, devastated; I haven’t cried from dreaming in ages. Grief leaks out of the fissures in your subconscious sometimes and drenches you when you thought you were finally done wading in it.
My dream illustrated to me that I still miss my grandmother deeply. I don’t know how much I needed the reminder.