Visiting Spirits

24 Sep

Last night I had a dream. I saw my Granny, who passed away the year T was born, sitting at a desk some distance from me. She looked like how remember her, not as she was in her last few years when she became rather frail, but like she did when I was little and would put her hair in pink cushion rollers every week.

I was happy to see her because I usually see Pop in my dreams, if anyone. My grandfather used to tell me that when he died he would become my guardian angel and watch over me. At the time I used to pooh-pooh it (I didn’t like to imagine him gone, you see). Since his death I’ve seen him twice in dreams. So I do wonder if, maybe even hope that, he is fulfilling his promise. When I have the occasional rough patch in life, I sometimes even…I wouldn’t say pray–my grandparents were quite religious and I am quite not, so neither of us would say pray–but I “think” at him. As my guardian angel, I am sure he would feel it his duty to care for me during dark times.

Pop was obviously very special to me and the way he loved me was completely different than anyone I’ve ever known. But in day-to-day life, Granny was often the one I really talked to, who I would call on the phone and just chat with, the person whose little bits of wisdom I find myself returning to often. In the three years she was alive after Pop passed we became very close; out of everyone I knew, including my husband, she was my greatest comfort when I lost my first pregnancy. So in some ways I miss her more–or as the French say, elle me manque plus–she is more missing from me. Sometimes I still catch myself planning to call her.

I told her this in the dream, and that I was so happy to see her. She said she was sorry she couldn’t see me more often (or really, that I couldn’t see her), but that they did hear me whenever I talked to them.

Her smile was striking, just really beautiful.  It’s hard to describe what she was like. I want to say she was glowing, but not like a halo or an aura or something. It was more like warmth, like she was radiating coziness. She was also–and this is true of the two times I’ve dreamed of Pop as well–almost more real than life. Not like when you dream of people you know and they’re obviously a dream person. Flat somehow, like a recording or a projection. She was really real, almost like she was there in more dimensions than the usual three.

I noticed then that her voice was that of a young woman’s. I realized that must have been what she sounded like when she was young, like my age. She said that was it exactly. I should mention that it was like we were talking in our heads, and it was more in ideas than clear sentences like I’m writing here. I observed too (again in my head) that she didn’t choose to look like a young woman, only to sound younger. She looked “tickled,” to use one of her words. I felt like she was glad I noticed, or happy that I caught on to that. I thought later, on waking, that maybe she thought I’d like to see her that way.

We may have talked more in the dream. If we did, I sadly don’t remember it. I hope I told her I was sorry I couldn’t sing His Eye is on the Sparrow at her funeral, as she had asked me to, but never brought up again after she saw how excruciating it was for me to sing at Pop’s service, not even when she knew she was dying. I know I slept more, I did not wake up immediately as one tends to do from lucid dreaming. When I did wake up, I didn’t remember this dream right away. It wasn’t until lunch, when I was reading a magazine where people were sharing spooky experiences, that I remembered it.

I’m not really a religious person. The supernatural interests me but I’m first and foremost a scientific thinker. I don’t know if I really received a heavenly visit from my deceased grandmother last night, or if it was some deep subconscious trick of the mind. I do know I hadn’t been thinking of her or Pop the day before, the autumnal equinox. But this morning, I went to read her obituary again, which I wrote for the paper and still have on file.

Today is the day we buried her four years ago.

Do you believe in dream visitations? Share your experience in the comments.

 

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One Response to “Visiting Spirits”

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  1. Why I Quit Coffee Part III: Wrap Up | Cushion Cut - November 6, 2015

    […] the wise and oft-repeated words of my Granny: Everything in […]

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