There is a story I want to tell. It is inside me. It could be my story, but I havent reached that happy ending yet.... so its not ready. I have climbed my family tree, nestled in its branches and become fascinated by some of the stories there.
I want to explore them. I feel connected to them. I want to be loved by them. Impossible, I know, when you consider time and space... but is it so impossible? Could I meet these people somewhere in my own personal dreamscapes?
I believe you can do almost anything in your dreamscapes.... and it can be therapeutic!
I was overseas when my beloved Nanna died. We had a special bond. We also had my mother in common. I dream of her often. She was our angel. She kept our family together. She had cancer in the 1980s, lived but it came back towards the end. One day, Nanna, Mum and I were sitting around the kitchen table having a cuppa.
I didn't believe she would die. I had discovered dreaming a couple of years before and being the opportunist that I am, I shared with Nanna what I had read. I asked her if she would contact me in my dreams, if she ever died. I was serious, and she shook her head. I remember asking her, that if she could, if it was possible - could she do it?
Closed minds would shrug this off. Old saggy horsey face school mums would probably accuse me of witchcraft.
Nanna knew she was going. The last time I saw her, she was really sick. She looked grey. It was my bon voyage party. I told her I would see her in 6 months. She said I hope so.
This isnt meant to be a depressing blog! You haven't reached the end yet!
Three months after she died, I was in Sylt, Germany. I sat on the beach with 2 friends till after midnight, playing around in the waning sun... it felt like it would last forever. That night, she came. I walked into the kitchen. Mum says something, and I tell her, You just sounded like Nanna then. And it is her. I am suprised, Nanna! We hug. She holds me, and I said I thought you were gone. We talk about Mum. Nanna asks me if I want to meet somebody. We go outside, and an old lady with blue eyes is in the passenger seat of a white car. We meet. She is Nanna's mother. It was great to meet her. Then they are gone.
It was her. I don't care what people say. It wasn't my psyche regurgitating the day's events. It wasn't the 'Nanna in me' that needed to be expressed.
And she has visited me about 4-5 times since then. That I remember. I've met her on stairs, me coming up them, her coming down - we met in the middle and she was young again, and in a beautiful purple sparkly gown. I have asked her what heaven is like and she has told me, both of us knowing I will not remember in the morning. I even recall telling her how good her analogy was, and that I would definately remember that one. I didn't.
Now, when she comes, I'm not even suprised. I think she is still my angel. She has to be somewhere. As much as I question Heaven and Hell... I still want to believe she is around. Even if it is just in my human memories that keep her alive.
But then, if that is the case, am I holding her back? You know that Aboriginal belief in not taking photos of someone cos it traps their soul on this earthly plain? I do believe that heaven and hell are subjective.. so I don't really think I've trapped her here :) Maybe she will just have to come back and claim her soul...
Maybe she already has.. and has stayed for another ride :) Monique is a Cancerian too....
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