My grandfather was in my dreams the other night. He passed away unexpectedly when I was 13, and I took it pretty hard. He was like a father to me. Very rarely do I dream of him. The last time he was in my dreams was shortly after he died. I remember very little of this dream now that almost 2 decades have passed, but the gist of it is that he was walking in a field surrounded by yellow flowers. I guess it would be what Wiccans tend to refer to as the Summerlands. It doesn’t matter to me where exactly this place was–the only thing that matters is that I saw him, and the feeling I got when I saw him was one of extreme peace. He looked happy. Not just content, not resigned to his fate, but actually happy.
When I dreamt of him this time, I didn’t really get feelings. I just remember him being there. In this dream, me and him and a few close companions were in a house. The other person of note was a girl named Erin that, in the dream, was supposedly my cousin, but in real life I don’t know anyone named Erin. (And obviously don’t have a relative by that name!) I peeked out the front door of this house and saw a tornado coming. After turning around and telling everyone of what I saw, I grabbed a backpack and starting shoving notebooks into it before we all headed out. As we were running passed a lake I noticed Erin was no one around us. So I asked the group where she was. Pappaw said he’d go back for her and headed back to the house. That was the last time I saw him–I woke up just after someone asked me if I had bandaids and such for emergency medical care, and I told them it didn’t matter because our shelter was a CVS.
I have no idea what to make of this dream, and I really wish Pappaw would show up more in my dreams. (For my own dream records, I want to note that he was wearing a red t-shirt. Red was his favorite color~)