I had a dream last night. It was long and involved and I remembered most of it when I woke up this morning but I don’t remember most of it now. What I do remember is vivid though.
I have vivid dreams often. Sometimes they’re awesome, sometimes they’re just pedestrian. Those are the funniest because I wake up searching for a meaning when really it’s like, I poured breakfast cereal, walked the dog and brushed my hair or something. Sometimes they’re really awful. Like violence and fear and tsunami’s. Last night I dreamt I walked outside of the house that I grew up in. In the back yard my grandmother was sitting in a plastic chair, my sister was standing on the porch and my dad was outside too. I looked at the potted flowers on the porch and they were dried up and dead, like they hadn’t been watered.. ever. My family members were talking and I was clearly out of the loop. I looked around and said “wait, did you just say grandpa died?” My dad put his hand on my shoulder. I looked down into my palms and started crying. Then weeping, shuddering. I knelt down on the porch and I could feel the concrete. I started wailing, my chest heaving. It was in the midst of this emotional explosion that I woke up gasping for a breath of air.
The thing is my grandfather is dead, just died a few weeks ago. And I’ve known that, I went to see him right before when hospice thought he was dying. I haven’t dreamt of anything that already happened. And I never cried like that over him in real life. It threw me for a bit when I woke up.