Closure

I haven’t had many dreams of my grandfather lately. Of course, that could be tied to the irrepressible insomnia that has plagued me in the five months since he died, not to mention the month leading up to it.

In any event, I dreamed that he was able to meet Mom and me for dinner. She had seen/spoke to him to make the date, and she didn’t tell me where we were going. And he was there at the restaurant, not doing anything but simply sitting still and beaming when he saw us — just like he always had. We ordered food but nobody touched it. Mom had a million things to say to him, but I was somewhat immobile — I could only stare at him and just be grateful for these extra moments.

Finally, he looked at me as if to encourage me to speak already. And in the dream, clear as day, I proclaimed that I’d dreamed a million times about being able to see him again, but I had never prepared what it was that I could say because I never actually believed I’d get the opportunity during the remainder of my little lifetime. And here I was, in the moment I’d wished for, and all I could do is tell him how much I loved him and missed him.

And it was enough. There was nothing more to say, as that said it all.

In the few dreams I’ve had of him in the past couple of months, I was terrified in them. I knew that they couldn’t be anything but a dream, yet I always felt like there was something I could do to reverse the course that things took. Last night, I finally just accepted that this is the way it happened, and to let him know that he’s in my heart.

I don’t feel like he’s crossed over yet; I felt like my grandmother went quickly and took the Acela Express to Heaven, but that he’s been hanging around, waiting to make sure Mom and I are OK before he goes ahead and joins her. Last night’s moments gave me hope that he’s ready to chase some clouds and just peek down on us occasionally instead of all the time.

Don’t worry about us, Grampy. We’ll be fine, hopefully sooner rather than later. You made us strong, and taught us to love ourselves. We’re getting by. And someday, it’ll be even better than that. Thanks for putting in a good word for us, wherever you’ve done it, because things are really starting ot turn around. I hate it that you’re not here to be a part of it, but something tells me you’re enjoying the view wherever you are. …

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