In my dream, we were eating a celebration dinner in a salon-type restaurant, with circular tables and squashy chairs pulled up around them. Grandma Wright was there (remember Grandma Wright? She passed away a few months ago) but something was different. She was growing smaller and younger. I was sad to realize that I’d missed the young adult and teen and even childhood years, and now she was a tiny, quiet toddler. She sat up for a while, until that became too difficult — then we took turns holding her on our laps, rubbing our cheeks into her duck-feather hair.
Too soon she was a fat baby, snuggled into my shoulder. I felt the urge to keep her in my arms as long as I could, touching, smelling, guarding her.
We sang celebration songs, the cousins displaying their talents and rejoicing together. I held the baby that was my grandma, watching her shrink to handheld size. She took on the proportions of a preemie newborn, outsized head and tiny limbs. I remember saying that I wish I could take a picture to remember this precious moment, but that it might look disrespectful. So instead, I held her up in my hand, for everyone to see. We all smiled through our tears, blew kisses, and watched her float away like a dandelion seed.
(5) Comments for this blog
Have you been watching The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, per chance?
I think it’s a beautiful dream. I wish I was a Joseph and could interpret it because certainly it must have meaning??
I love dreams!!!!!!!!
Dreams are such strange, beautiful things. I had a dream about my great-grandmother once and it had this same, blissful feel about it. Full of love, togetherness, and tenderness.
What a lovely dream memory.
I don’t know how to put into words what a beautiful dream that was. So sweet and tender.