The Dream

I just returned from several days visiting a friend and her new baby. I will write a post about it, but something just happened so jarring that I need to write about it instead.  I've just been waken up by the second dream I've had about my late grandfather.  For the second time I've awakened in suffocating, jagging sobs that shock and startle my poor, sleeping husband.

Grandpa was a quiet, reliable, calm figure in my childhood.  My saw my grandparents, my father's parents usually at least once a month.  They lived in a good sized house with backyard in NE Tacoma, WA. They'd bought  the land and built the house 50 years prior when the land was just being developed for houses.  A school ended up across the street and they ended up adding on to the house when more children filled it than seemed comfortable. Grandpa had a large garage with every tool imaginable and could usually be found out there making something useful for Grandma or a toy or gift for one of us many kids and grandkids.  Grandpa worked for an airline and grandma stayed at home.  They had 5 children including my dad as well as a huge amount of foster kids over the year (If I'm remembering correctly it was over 40).  Grandpa was a quiet man who loved children and had a sly sense of humor you'd miss unless you were paying attention.  Grandma has always been the talker in the relationship.  Shortly after we moved to Canada, Grandpa had a hard fall and things looked so bad I was urged to come home and see him.  I bought a next day ticket and spent a week with him.  He'd had a brain bleed and wasn't speaking but seemed happy to see me.  During the week hospice was called in and the family had a meeting with him sitting among us.  The next day he started to speak, slowly and garbled, but he seemed a bit ticked off we'd called hospice on him.  He lived another two years just to show us he could.

I'd  told Grandma while I was visiting that the trip was my good bye to him and if there was a funeral, I wouldn't be back for it (I didn't know at the time he'd live another 2 years!)  She told me they had so many friends and family it would be alright. We both agreed it was better for me to visit grandpa while he was alive.  Grandpa recovered enough from the incident that I, P and the kids were able to visit with him a few times more and he'd be happy we'd come but not really say much.  Then, while my mom was visiting in January after a Christmas we were in Canada, we got word that Grandpa had passed away.   Since my mom had just been out I decided not to attend the funeral.  I'd always assumed I'd go.  I thought it would be great to hear stories about Grandpa I may not had heard, but I had already said my goodbye and I talked to my Grandma stating as much and saying if she needed me there that I would go. We agreed again that she would have plenty of support and I could stay home. (She did, the church was packed). I didn't cry. I was sad, but I actually took it fairly well.  It's not like it was sudden.  His health had been declining over the previous 2 years and I'd said my goodbyes and made peace with it. I thought.  The U of WA has his body for Parkinson's research and should give it back for cremation sometime in the next 3 years. Hopefully that will coincide with a trip we can join to spread his ashes at Paradise on Mount Rainier.

Now, though, I've been awakened by a 2nd dream of Grandpa.  2 in the last 18 months.  It's been awhile since the first one. I dreamt about him so vividly that first time. I was shocked at how real the dream seemed and shocked at my reaction of crying so violently upon waking up.  It stuck with me for a few days.

This morning there was more of a dream context.  I'd driven down to visit grandma very early in the morning before work to deliver a birthday present.  I was surprised to see her as well as my parents and an uncle from my mom's side of the family that has been helping to care for my other grandparents (my grandparents had a bit of a health scare over the last month, so I've had them on my mind a lot).  I slid the gift over the counter to keep the surprise.  I was chatting with them and suddenly noticed Grandpa sitting with us.  He was very small, like the size of my daughter, quiet, but sitting next to grandma.  Everyone went away but  Grandpa and I gathered him up in my arms and held him like the baby I'd been holding over the last week.  He was the size of a child, but very light.  I walked him over to where Grandma was getting dialysis (ok, I'd fallen asleep after watching John Oliver's show about dialysis eating more caramel M&Ms than I should have and a bottle of cider-probably not the most conducive way to fall into a deep, restful sleep).  I think she mentioned something casually about me holding him. She didn't seem surprised and mentioned he'd shown up about a week ago. Didn't say anything to her, but was very comforting and stayed with her.  I was shocked she'd not said anything and was asking her, "tell me what you know about this?  He's here?" etc.  I kept asking her questions and she was silent.  I realized she'd died talking to me and then Grandpa was also gone.  He'd come to get her.  I woke up sobbing.  I don't think it was because Grandma had died, I think it was so vivid and lovely to see him and get to hold him and so sweet of him to come for her so she wouldn't be scared.  Their love was always like that and it seemed like a very plausible thing for him to do.  I woke up the same way I'd waken up from the first dream, with such a longing to see him it hurt.

I probably had the dream because I'd talked to Grandma the day before and my other grandparents the day of and had spent the week holding a sleepy baby of a friend who knows me well and my Grandparents.  I just never seem prepared for it.