A few weeks after my maternal grandfather died, he popped up in one of my dreams. Now, I’ve mentioned before that I tend to have pretty weird stress dreams and most of the dreams I remember when I wake fall into this category. This one was different though. I don’t usually dream about family (or even close friends, coworkers, anyone I interact with on a daily basis) and my dreams always have a pretty solid plot. It is never easy to describe dreams, but I’m going to give it a try.
It was almost as if I was dreaming about something not really all that important when everything suddenly switched. I wasn’t in my dream anymore. I was standing in a bright area that felt very open and, at the same time, very much like being in a tunnel. I had the feeling that there were a lot of people just outside of the bright area, just outside of the tunnel, and they were all talking and going about their business. I felt 100% comfortable in this weird light tunnel.
About ten feet in front of me was my grandfather sitting in a squeaky wooden chair. You know the kind that cracks and creaks when you move around in it? He was wearing comfortable pajamas, as he often did when he was ill, but he appeared more like the grandfather I remember from my childhood. He looked healthy, was perfectly groomed, and had a sly smile on his face.
He leaned forward in the creaky chair and said, “You know I love you, right?” In the dream I was taken aback. I felt bad that he even felt the need to ask that and only managed to reply, “Of course, grandpa.” He look contented, leaned back in the chair, and gave an approving nod. Sometimes I think he said, “Good,” but I’m not 100% sure that was actually in the dream.
Then I woke up and sat straight up in bed – another thing I never do. I stayed there for a while in my very still bedroom and realized that I felt unbelievably calm. I’ll never forget that feeling and, so far, I’ve never felt it again.
So what was it? A dream, a coping mechanism, a vision, a visitation? Doesn’t really matter. It was wonderful.