The Grieving Dreams

There are several explanations behind why we dream and what we dream about. Are our dreams awakening our subconscious? Are they portraying our hopes and dreams or maybe our fears? With nothing scientific backing me, just regular personal experiences, I think dreams can represent all of those things.

Over 2 1/2 years ago now, I lost my grandfather. It wasn’t a surprise that came out of no where. He had been sick for a long time, although you could never tell. He kept what he could hidden from everyone. To those who didn’t know his heart was failing, they would never know. He loved walking, cooking, gardening, and never stopped doing any of these things. He made homemade wine, always had meat and cheeses to offer his company, and even if you made a surprise visit to see him, he never seemed out of the ordinary.

Prior to his death, he had spent about a week in the hospital. It was at that point, we knew he wasn’t coming home. I was living on the other side of the country at the time, and had to get a last minute flight home. I unfortunately didn’t make it in time, to say good bye. The last time I had spoken to him was when he first went to the hospital, and he insisted he was fine. The last time I ever saw him, was just now 3 years ago, when I came home with my now husband and wanted my grandfather to meet him.

When I first moved back home, over a year after his death, I had the most bizarre dream that felt so real. I was with my grandfather. I can’t remember anymore what we were doing in the dream, just that we were both really happy. However, in my dream, he died. I awoke the next day, feeling like I was with him, feeling as if the dream really happened. I believe I had this dream, because I never fully got closure. Yes, I was home for the funeral, but I went back to California right after. I didn’t fully experience the lack of his presence on holiday’s or the absence of him at his home. I went back to CA and it just felt like it had been a while since we’d last talked. Coming home, I was hit with the reality for the first time, that I truly would never see him again. Something everyone else had grown use to, was now like a reopened wound for me.

I think of my grandfather often, every time I visit the Strip District, a particular area in Pittsburgh that he frequented for his Italian meats and cheeses, and often…

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