My Earliest Dream

I was nine years old. After my grandfather died I had a dream that I was in his home.
There was a wide staircase leading to the second floor. I started up but fell back down.
I heard voices saying "Hurry up he's going to be here!"

I came to the top of the stairs, turned to my right and went into my grandmother's room. On one of her walls was what looked like a movie screen. As I looked I could see my grandfather sitting with a base fiddle (as described from a child's view). He said he was happy and was doing what he had always wanted to do. He was in a beautiful garden with lots of people walking around. Young children, older looking people, but, they looked young at the same time.

The dream ended. The next day or so I asked my mother and grandmother if Grandpa had a favorite instrument he liked and they told me a base fiddle. Then I told them my dream. They never said much about it to me, but, they just listened.

Hello Grandfather

I guess I thought about my grandfather a lot yesterday when I was sharing and writing out the dream I had on the night he died.  Last night I dreamed about him again.

This time he was sitting in the drivers seat of my grandparents car and grandma was next to him.  I was in a different vehicle in the passenger seat.  He saw me and he waved vigorously.  Then he got out, came around to the drivers side window of the car I was in and said, "Hi, how are you doing?" 

I don't remember what I said, or what he said after that.  It kind of felt like we were talking through water.  What I remember most was how at the beginning he was sitting in the car and it looked like grandma was caring for him, as if the car seat was the same as his old recliner.  Then suddenly he was fine. 

Dreams are so strange.

Goodbye Grandfather

My grandfather suffered from Parkinson's disease for many years.  The last few years of his life were practically no life at all.  He was unable to use his hands, communicate or move around easily.  He suffered from painful cramping all over his body.  He fought hard though.  He went for a walk every day and tried to keep himself in shape.  Unfortunately, he suffered a fall one day.  It took a long time for doctors to figure out that he had broken his hip.  An attempt was made to replace this hip but the surgery was not successful.  His bones were so brittle there was no way to fix them.  So began the last two painful years of my grandfather's life.

He lived in a brown recliner in the living area of my grandparents home.  I rarely saw him anywhere else.  He watched a handful of television shows and was often alone because the living area was sectioned away from the rest of the house and most of the family spent a lot of time outside.  It didn't help that he had trouble swallowing, and it took so long for him to try to say something, that people would usually grow impatient and either interrupt him or start talking about something else.  I remember feeling terrible about this.

One night I had a dream, which is not in itself unusual, except that I dreamed about my grandfather, which I've never done before.

I dreamed all the usual suspects were in the living room surrounding grandfather who was sitting in his usual brown recliner.  We were visiting and talking but not about anything particular that I can remember.  At one point though something must have interested my grandfather because he sat forward in his recliner, with feet planted firmly on the floor and said something.  I can't remember what he said but he said it clearly.

Everyone in the room stopped talking and we all just stared at him in shock.  He looked uncomfortable like he didn't appreciate the scrutiny.  At this point in the dream tears were flying down my face and I said to him, "Wow! Grandpa, you sound SO much better!"  He looked at me and smiled and kind of laughed it off like it was nothing.

Conversation continued and I just sat there in shock.

Then we all wandered out into the kitchen area.  We left my grandfather in the living room in his brown recliner.  This upset me very much.  I said to my grandmother, "Why aren't we in there with him?  Why would we just leave him in there by himself?"

She said, "Oh, don't worry about him!  He'll come out when he's ready."  I felt distressed that she didn't seem more concerned about it.  I woke at this point.  I was crying in my sleep.  I saw the time.  I don't remember what it was exactly but I know it was somewhere between two and three in the morning.  I went back to sleep.

A few hours later I got a phone call from my parents to let me know grandpa had passed away.  He had left us in his sleep somewhere between two and three in the morning.