I had a dream about my grandparents the other night. My grandma had gotten out of the hospital not too long ago, but it had been about 6 weeks since I had seen her and I couldn't figure out what I had been doing the whole time that she had been home. I was berating myself for not coming to visit sooner. I sat down with both of my grandparents at their house and we started talking. I don't remember what we talked about but I do remember thinking to myself that I had never had an adult conversation with my grandparents before and I couldn't figure out why. Before too much longer it occurred to me. I was having a dream and both my grandparents had been dead for years.
I was sad when I woke up. I miss them still. I practically grew up at their house, right around the corner. We played there every summer when my mom went back to school before we did. All through elementary school my mom dropped us off every morning because she had to leave for school around 7 and our school didn't start until 8:15. I remember making scrambled eggs at Grandma's and drinking real hot chocolate. None of that out of can mix. We built a house/fort in their backyard. We mowed the lawn. We picked the peas and the carrots and ate grapes off the vine that weren't quite ripe. Those were my favorite. We ate apricots off the tree and in the spring we cut lilacs to take to our teachers. We did fireworks in the driveway every year and always ate Thanksgiving and Easter dinner there. We called Grandma and Grandpa when we got sick at school and they came to pick us up. Grandma called every day to check up on us. (It's where I get my worrisome side. And you thought I was bad. . .) She always brought us grape juice when we were sick and would tickle our necks when we were sad.
Grandma's turkey and gravy was unrivaled. And still is. Although Aunt Carolyn comes mighty close. And even though the Thanksgiving fruit salad came almost completely out of a can I still crave it every year. And the deviled eggs on Easter. Those I make. And they're not quite as good, but they must be had every year.
I read a book recently called The Death and Life of Charlie St. Cloud. It was interesting. Parts of it dealt with the afterlife. And one of the things that the author stated about the afterlife was that those who have passed on can travel through dreams. That is when they visit us. I kind of like to think that the night I had my dream, my grandparents decided that it was time to visit their granddaughter. And just so you know, even though it was a dream, she loved every minute of it.