Dream

Last night, I had a very vivid dream about my late Grandmother. In the house where we live, there is a door at the bottom of the stairs that swings right and blocks the entry to a front bedroom that has been turned into an office. In my dream, I was swinging open the door and stepping off the stairs when she called to me from the room the door had blocked. The unexpected sound of her voice was like a jolt in the gut.

She wanted to tell me about her childhood, a common subject in her last years as her memory failed, but when I closed the door to go to her, I found her bedroom rather than the office. I thought she was lying in the middle of the bed, which was perfectly made and white. But then it wasn't her, just something flat under the covers. That's when I woke with a jolt. I was left with such a strong impression of her voice that even after awakening I brought it with me.

It's strange how the experience of a person dulls over time when they are gone. Hearing her voice again made her absence much more real.