GRANDMA

I dreamed of my Grandma last night and ended up crying in my dream so hard I woke myself up. Upon waking, in my delirious half-conscious state of that God-forsaken early morning hour, I began to cry again because I remembered seeing my Grandma and crying in my dream! And when I say crying, I don’t mean head-bent-with-silent-tears-rolling-down-my-face crying. I was sobbing – scrunched up eyes, twisted mouth, shoulders shuddering, short of hysterics type of bawling, even when I woke. Talk about wet dreams! 

In my dream, I seemed to be on some type of stage or platform, looking out over a room full of people milling about. It’s like I was at a party or social gathering of some sort.  There, in the middle of the room, surrounded by chatting people, was my Grandmother. She stood there quietly, not moving, not smiling, not frowning, just looking serenely at me through her glasses. For some reason, I began to sob in my dream.

My grandma died on July 6, 2011. She was a strong, no-nonsense lady who’d suffered as a very young girl but went on to live a very good life, dying at the age of 91. I remember her as a petite, vibrant woman full of spunk who was a good cook, a fervent sewer of patchwork blankets, stern but loving, and the cleanest housekeeper I ever did know.

I don’t know why I cried last night. Loved ones have visited me in my dreams before and I didn’t cry then. I hadn’t gone to bed feeling especially sad or stressed. Maybe I cried because it was unexpected. Maybe it was because of the way she looked. Maybe it’s because I miss her. Maybe because it was Grandma and she made the effort to come, to say she’s still here, still cares, and still watching. Whatever the reason, I’m grateful.