I dreamed that I was entering a small group of houses. Small houses. They were arranged in a sort of circle, and there were people walking in between. About 6 or so of them seemed to be walking the same direction, away from me, and I could have sworn one of them was Grandma. I was thrilled to see her. I shouted out to her, and tried to run to her, but the closer I got, I could see it wasn't really her. A voice said in my ear, "She's gone, Deidre. You've really got to let her go." I stood and cried while a wave of sadness washed over me. I could see that the stooped old woman was not Grandma... but she looked so like her. I thought I would sink into the ground with despair. I stood and sobbed for a few minutes... they seemed like a very long few minutes.
A small child was standing in the space between the buildings. I don't remember if it was a boy or a girl... it wasn't obviously any one sex. It seemed to be female. It had black hair and olive skin. "You were her favorite kid," I told the child through my tears. "Most babies cry a lot, you know? But not you. She always talked about how you were such a good baby, always smiling and happy." I paused uncertainly. "Like me."
The child appeared to be about 6 years old, but I felt instinctively that this was an adult I was talking to. It seemed imperative that I tell this child how Grandma felt about her.
Somehow I found myself sitting in the front seat of a car, an old sedan. Grandpa was driving. He looked like he always does in my dreams - happy, strong, proud of me. He drove me to a school. I had a box in my hands. I asked him if he would be back to pick me up. He shook his head. I asked if I would see him again... and he said no. Not with words... I just felt the words in my mind. I looked at him, hoping... He smiled at me and waited. I got out of the car. "Thanks, Grandpa," I thought. I did not look back. I did not see him pull away.
In the school, a young African-American girl of about 14 was singing a simple teen-pop song, the sort you'd hear from Hilary Duff or possibly in a children's musical. She was making a video with two friends, a guy and a girl. It was a sweet love song.
I filmed the video. I ran the camera. That was why I was there.
Marge meowed. I began to wake up. "Grandpa, will Isee you again?" No... I felt. "Thank you Grandpa," I said. "Thanks for the ride. Thanks for coming to see me. Take care of Grandma. I miss you... and I love you."
I woke up.
When I told G about this dream, I cried. I can't believe I'll never see them again. It still hurts. Grandpa didn't speak to me... he wasn't there to talk to me. He just came to help me get where I needed to be.
I have had two Tarot card readers tell me that I am destined to seek further education, and that I will be a teacher of some sort. But in a school? Filming music videos? Student Projects?
I don't want to be a teacher!
Was Grandpa the voice in my ear, telling me that I've got to let Grandma go?
Was I the small dark child?