Meeting in the Dreamworld

8 February, 2015 Ken Family & Personal

I woke up excited, then overwhelmed to the point of tears. Mer suggested I write this all down while it’s fresh in my mind.

I was in the dining room of my family homestead in Dunkirk, where my grandparents lived. Merry, Christina, and the step-family were there, perhaps others, and I was using it for a staging ground to clean up some things in another house we had. My dear friend Michelle showed up to help and was eager to get started, but my Grandfather, passing the kitchen door, made it clear THIS house didn’t need any cleaning or clearing.

This got to me because I realized he’d been there the whole time, but died 20 years ago. I went to confront him, following him into the bedroom when the world changed and became bright and I remember seeing old houses or barns brightly-painted with white and blue trim.

I held him tightly, very much like I hug my own Dad when I haven’t seen him for so long. We floated on a bit, and when I asked him about Grandma, he took me to a lot or driveway of what looked like a fire hall. I saw the outside and inside, with lots of teenage girls and a few boys, and we couldn’t find her. She was usually there, and there were tryouts, maybe for basketball, but they were all dressed more dolled up than for sports.

He admitted he was a guardian angel of sorts (my words) for her and her friends.

We went through a door (he tried to use a security pin, but it really wasn’t necessary in non-corporeal form), and around an unlit corner. I asked about his brothers and sisters and he said they were fine.

Sitting back in a brightly lit place, I asked him is he were going back to start another life and he answered yes. We joked about how he didn’t expect incarnation to be real, and I said I hoped to know him in person again. I thought about how, and said, “we are all one” so I shouldn’t fret so much about meeting in particular.

I asked about my mother, and he said she had not moved to another life. He took me to his workstation of sorts, a desk, in a sort of library, with a mirror I couldn’t see or didn’t look at, and I thought of asking him if I could see my mother, being concerned where exactly she was. My intellectual brain kicked in and I woke up abruptly.

The dream was more contiguous than most, and like some, I have the desire to confirm. More than confirm. I feel called to find the ‘new’, teenage Sophie, and be there for here and her friends, like my granddad.

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