missives from a dream
sunday morning, june 9th, 2024
i woke up and cried.
i had a dream of my grandfather for the first time in a long, long time.
he died in 2011 after a painful battle with pneumonia and chronic obstructive pulmonary disease. by the end of it all, he told my mom he was tired and that he wanted to rest.
in my dream, i was seated at the breakfast nook, looking through my laptop. i had a messaging app open and i was texting my grandfather. he was dead in the dream and i was talking to him in the afterlife.
i told him about how i was birdwatching now—how his little granddaughter who hated the sun and the soil now goes to forests and rivers and hikes mountains, despite her fear of bugs.
i sent him an aerial view of a plane ride. my college graduation. my friends, who i’ve all met after his passing. i told him my cousins were in college now. i said i missed him over and over again.
i can’t remember his responses. all i remember was him saying he missed me too.
it was the first time i wasn’t a child in my dream. i was myself, all 23 and some of me.
it was the first time he was dead in my dream—that he wasn’t wearing his trademark red polo and tan slacks.
there’s something bittersweet about that. i think i prefer the dreams where he’s still alive and i am still a child, clinging to the hem of his pants and telling him where to find the parking lot in my favourite mall (he knows the way so much better than i do, but he still follows my lead).
it’s been 13 years since his death. i’ve moved on, mostly. but there is a hole in my heart in the shape of our secret dates to fast food restaurants; a hole in the shape of a grandfather who adored me enough to take a drive over an hour across the city just because i missed him. it’s a hole only a grandfather can fill.
it will stay empty for the rest of my life.
ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚
i have two songs today. this one and this one.
i miss my grandparents.