Dream a little dream for me.
I have been having the same reoccurring dream now every few days and Im not sure what it means but I find a strange kind of peace with it.
In my dream, I am a young adult (perhaps 18 or 19) and my grandparents have both passed away in their home (my grandpa passed in 2001 and gramma last year) and in my dream Im standing in the living room and I can see every single knick-knack, every piece of art hanging on the walls, every lamp and shade, every crocheted blanket, every book on the shelf over the mantle, my grampa’s copper ashtray with his pipe sitting in it, their coffee cups were on the endtable.. and stand in the middle of the room and I just keep spinning in a circle slowing taking it all in and I swear I can smell them and feel them and I see everything..
Then I move into the sitting room and I stare at the painting of a cardinal and I look at the colored glass in the windows (after my gramma passed my family was able to send me some of her colored glass that is on display in my living room), I see the paisley wall paper and the magnolia/gold paint, the fireplace, the turquoise trunk, the blue couch, the fireplace pokers, the chairs.. I see every single thing.. which is so strange because I havent been in that house since about a year after my grampa died and gramma moved into a new home. I remember it all..
In my dream I have tears running down my face because I miss them but Im oddly really happy. I move out onto the screened in porch and I sit in a rocker and I smell the bushes and flowers gramma planted, I feel the breeze coming in off the lake and I hear my dad laughing at something grampa says even though Im alone in the house.
I go back inside and I start singing a song I dont recall ever knowing and I pause to touch the staircase banister and I feel my gramma put her hand on my back and say “sing to me” so I keep singing and I go upstairs and into her sitting room and I see the dolls and the antique chairs and lampshades.. I lay down in the center of her bed and I can smell her and I put my face into the pillow and cry.
I walk back out of her room and by my grampa’s room and I see him sitting on his bed looking out the window. The sun is shining on his face and his eyes are closed. He’s in a white tshirt and trousers. He has a silver watch on his wrist. He must sense me be cause he turns to look at me and holds out his hand. I take it and he pulls me close and has me sit next to him. He pats my head and we sit and watch the sun play off the leaves in the tree. Next thing I know, it’s dark and Im sitting on the bed alone.
Then there’s the teddy bear room, the room I used to stay in when I’d spend the night because it’s the room that my dad shared with his brother when he was young. I take turns laying on both the twin beds. I go from teddy bear to teddy bear and remember playing with them when I was young.
I end up back in the living room standing there smack dab in the center.. I dont move. I just stand there waiting for something. Im not sure what. My dream ends and I sleep, dreamless. I wake up in the morning and I feel.. an aching yearning for that dream to have been real. I want to be back in that house, I want to see them.. but Im content. I feel at peace.
Im not sure why I keep having this exact same dream. Nothing changes in it. I would love to go back to the house when we go up to NY this summer, but I know it wont be as I remember it. A well off family from NYC bought it for a summer home and it would be far too old fashioned for a young family these days. They’d have taken down the tacky printed wallpaper, they’d paint the crown moldings, it wouldnt smell the same, there would be no pictures of cardinals in the bathroom, no old furniture, no hat or coat racks. My grandparents would no longer be there. As much as I want to wander through the house and remember, I would rather have the memory of it as I last saw it. The home away from home on the lake. The place of comfort and love. A house of solitude.
Another strange thing has been happening. We have a huge tree in the backyard and there is always an array of different birds and animals in it at any given time during the day. Everyday around 11am-2pm I hear the same beautiful song. A bright red, loud singing cardinal sits on a low hanging branch about a foot from my porch and serenades me. I always go out and watch him and he watches me right back. He never stops chirping. He never flies away for long. If something spooks him, he always comes back a few minutes later to continue. As I said up above, the cardinal was my gramma’s favorite bird. She had paintings, pictures, plaques.. you name it. Sometimes I think it’s her, letting me know she’s there with me. At least, I pretend it is.
Im not much of a religious person like they were. I dont pray to a God, I dont believe in heaven or hell.. but I believe in love. I believe in souls and I believe in signs.
Until next time..