When Grandma Came to Visit in a Dream

The night before last, Grandma Becky came for a visit in my dream.

We were putting on a play because Wyatt is missing his chance to perform the part he wanted (the part he earned, the part he worked so hard for) in the sixth grade play because...quarantine. 

In the dream, it felt big. Graduation level big. Everyone came. 

And here in my dreamscape, I of course held nothing back. We had built an outdoor stage, complete with smooth wooden flooring (and a trap hatch) lighting, pulleys and levers for whatever special effects were called for, long and velvety curtain legs. 

I had that excited buzz in my head that I get when we're about to create an experience. We were nearly ready to start, so I came out from back stage to tell Wyatt and the other actors to get in their places and to survey the audience. Almost time! 

Then I saw her. Grandma Becky sitting in one of the folding chairs near the back, watching with a pleasant expression on her face. And I knew in the way you know in dreams that she was here as her spirit self. Also - I knew she had to be visiting in the spirit because if this were a time travel dream, she would definitely be sitting on the front row. But this time, a bit of discretion was in order. 

My heart gave a little leap and I quickly made my way around the crowd, taking the long way around and up from the back. If she wanted discretion, I would comply! I didn't want to devastate any sort of rule or law that allowed her to be here! I slid into the chair next to hers.

"Grandma!" I exclaimed. "You came!"

She gave me a look and in her snarky way said, "Oh, honestly Stephanie! Of course I came!" She looked back toward the stage with a half-smile. "I have never missed any of my grandkids' plays." 

I thought of all the performances her grandkids had done since her passing —the concerts, the plays, the recitals—and the thought both thrilled me and felt completely correct. Of course she would arrange to be there. She never missed a single performance of any kind during life. Why should a little thing like death interrupt such a loving perfect record? 

I wanted to ask her so many things. The enormity of all that I wanted to ask her! But instead, I did what felt like the most important thing: I laid my head on her shoulder the way I used to when I was small and she would sit with me on her brown and gold floral couch and read me stories for hours. She always, always had time for me. 

Finally, I did ask, "How did you come?" 

She smiled proudly and held up a ticket, white with blue writing. "I have my ticket!" she said. 

With sudden urgency, I started into a half-standing position, scanning the crowd. "Let me find my mom," I said. "She definitely needs to see you." 

Grandma put a calm, stopping hand on my knee. "Your mother sees me when and how she needs to." 

And then, without words, she conveyed to me the message: Now Shh! Let me enjoy this! You better get up there or you won't start on time!

I woke up from her visit, then. But I woke with that familiar feeling of having spent the day with Grandma. With that feeling that I wanted to be a bit tougher, my priorities a bit straighter, and my loyalties a bit fiercer.

I can't remember what she wore, now - only that there was purple. And that she was still very much the grandmother I knew, but younger. Not necessarily in years...those didn't seem to matter. She was younger in energy. And that her lipstick was expertly applied. 

I taught Daphne how to make Grandma Becky's scratch brownies last night in tribute. My own little thank-you for the visit, and for the many layered lessons in our too-brief conversation.