Dreams, Memories or Messages?

    I could (and probably will) tell you story after story about my dreams.  Early in life I learned to pay attention to them because they DO mean something.

    When I was about eight years old I awoke from a bad dream (or so I thought).  “Mommy, Mommy!” I screamed crying from bed.  Mom came into the room and sat at the edge of my bed “What’s wrong honey?” Mom asked.  “I had a scary dream.” I replied.  Mom then hugged me and said “Tell me about it.”

    “I was very tiny and walking down a long dark hallway.  I was holding some ones hand, a very big person.  We came to a room and stood in the doorway.  There was a big bed I had to look up to see who was in it.  There was a light behind the bed and a window.  The room smelled funny.  There was an old lady with long white hair laying in it.  When we entered the room the old lady tried to touch me.  I think she was dead!” I told my Mother.  Mom just smiled and said, “You’re just remembering.”

    “Remembering what?” I asked her and she began to tell me a story which I will never forget.  “When you were around two years old your Great Grandmother got sick.  The doctors said she had something called Alzheimer’s and that because of her forgetfulness we had to put her in a home.” Mom began, “Your Great Grandma loved you very much, but she started losing memories of you and all of us.  She became very scared of everyone and we were afraid she would hurt herself or someone else, so we thought this would be the best for her.” Mom continued, “What you’re remembering is something that really happened to you when you were only two.  I took you to see your Great Grandma at that home.  We had to walk down a long hallway to her room, it was kinda dark and it did smell of cleansers and medicines.  When we got to the room we stood at the door and she DID reach out to you just before she passed away.  I wondered if you remembered seeing her.  I think she’s reaching out to you again, this time in your dreams.  She just wants to let you know she loves you.”  

    Mom always had a way to console me and make me feel better about the things that scared me.  The scary dream was not so scary anymore.  It was a message to me from Great Grandma that she saw me then and sees me now!