The hand that reaches back through time and space.
I love when my grandma comes to visit me in my dreams.
My grandma had a quiet, but powerful presence. Like 96% carrot, and 4% stick (which was really just the .22 she kept in her leather fanny pack haha). A story that illustrates this perfectly, is one told to me recently. When I was in her care she had my sister and I on a strict schedule, that including us eating lunch together. Apparently, my sister and I weren’t drinking the amount of water she felt we should, so instead of arguing with a 4 and 2 year old, she simply added extra salt to our food. Sure enough, we’d be at her hip asking for water. She got shit done, by hook or crook.
To this day, she’s still got my back. Sometimes she makes an appearance in car license plates, shop signs, and sidewalk art. Other times it’s a hummingbird zipping past my face. I’ve even had others comment on a “strong energy” sitting with me. But when she really has something to say, she takes center stage in my dreams. A few months after she passed, she came to me. I’m a pretty avid dreamer, but this was different. I ran to her and she held me in an embrace so tight that I could feel the rise and fall of her chest. I could smell her scent. It nearly brought me to my knees. When I woke up, my pillow was drenched with tears. It felt like a cruel joke and a gift all at once.
A few years later, deep in the throes of tending to my burgeoning photography practice, she returned. We were back in her house, the house that holds all my fondest memories of her, and I rushed over to greet her. Without missing a beat I immediately began to ask her where her cameras and backdrops were. She took me through the house showing me different cameras and gave me instructions on how to find the backdrops. When I woke up, I got to hunting. My grandfather did his best to help me, but we were unsuccessful. Maybe it was just a dream? There’s no way she was actually communicating with me, right? Fast forward to 2022 and my aunt has dropped off the first batch of boxes filled with my grandmother’s archive. And sure enough, one of those cameras from my dream was there. I still get chills thinking about it. There was no question it was her. Supporting me, loving me, guiding me from the other side.
She still shows up periodically. Usually in the front living room. Often with instructions or guidance (I always appreciate the help!). Sometimes we just simply enjoy each other’s presence and other times I arrive ready to climb in her lap to be comforted. No matter what, I always leave with a nice warm hug.