Dear Granny

I dreamt about my Granny last week and I can’t shake it. Since she passed away in 2008, I’ve dreamt of her many times but there have been three times in particular that I remember vividly. The first “dream” that I had of her was not long after her passing. I dreamt that she was sitting on the edge of my bed talking to me except for when I woke up, I was sitting up just as I had been in my dream and everything in my room was the same – the sun was just barely rising and the room was softly lit, the blankets on the bed were just the same, and I was sitting in the exact position that I had been in the dream. Her presence felt so real and then ripped away again. I remember crying on and off the rest of the day, unable to shake that she was here and then gone again.

The second dream that I had of her was when I was pregnant with Holt. I dreamt that my whole family was gathered for a dinner. We were in a fairly bare apartment that was unrecognizable to me, all gathered around a large table and waiting for Steve, my husband to arrive so we could start eating. The door to the apartment opened and Steve walked in exclaiming “look who I brought” and from around the corner, Granny appeared.

Just like the two dreams before, my most recent dream is still so vivid. I was in the middle of what felt and looked like Georgetown in Washington, DC. Granny pulled up in a Volkswagen beetle with another woman in the passenger seat, someone unrecognizable to me, and they invited me to church. For whatever reason I needed to drive myself and proceeded to encounter a myriad of self inflicted roadblocks that were preventing me from arriving at church on time – the parking garage I was trying to park in was full, I needed to drop my ipad off at a charging station first, I accidentally parked many, many blocks away from the church, and the list goes on. As I finally was exiting the parking garage and walking towards the church, I heard the sound of bells signaling the approaching start of service. I was at the top of a hill looking down on the church where I saw Granny’s beetle pull up in front of the church for some sort of valet parking. I could hear the bright and peppy music coming from her car and she was laughing. Then I woke up.

I wouldn’t consider myself a religious person; however, I believe in something bigger than myself and I believe that I am guided, by my Granny and others. Anytime I have dreamt of Granny I like to think that she is guiding me in a way that feels tangible and whether this is something I’ve made up to feel connected to her still or actually real, it doesn’t really matter. When I think about this last dream, she could have been literally telling me to get my ass to church, but I took it as an invitation back to my spirit.

Writing is something that I’ve been doing since I was a kid. It’s also something I promised my Granny that I would always do in the last letter I ever wrote to her and that is a promise that I broke until now. The only time I have written since her passing was in yoga teacher trainings answering journaling prompts, in cards around the holidays, or the occasional blog post for my yoga studio’s website, but nothing consistent, never dedicated.

I still have the last letter that I ever wrote to Granny. I wrote it after she passed and read it at her memorial service. Since then the folded up pieces of note book paper have lived tucked away in a blue velvet jewelry box that she gave me when she passed. The letter sits next to a string of pearls, ring, and a picture of Granny and Ho (Holt), my grandfather.

Cornelia, my Granny, thank you for inviting me back to myself again, thank you for never letting me break a promise, and please come back and visit me soon.

Our last letter…

Dear Granny, Just like all the other cards I have written to you over the past year, I don’t want this one to be any different except for maybe this time I will be sure not to leave anything out. This morning I was putting on the necklace you gave me, the one that has the smiling face on it, and that smiling face reminded me of yours just how you said it reminded you of mine. Then I got to thinking about all of those wonderful times that we smiled together and also of the lessons that you have taught me that will ensure I can keep smiling in the future.

All my life I have tried to make sure you know how thankful I am for everything you have given me, but there are certain things I am not sure if I ever actually gave thanks for. Like for the mornings we spent together in the RV when we were on our summer camping trips. I am very grateful to have had those quiet moments spent with just the two of us while we packed up our things and got ready to head to our next destination. I didn’t realize it at the time, but I learned a lot about you and your life those summer mornings. It was one of the first times I learned I could come to you not only because you are my grandmother but also because you are my friend. I also want to thank you for always reminding me to stand up tall not only because it is the proper thing to do but because it showed confidence. It is confidence and strength that you have taught me and what I will take from your memory most.

Thank you for being so strong your entire life and especially during this past year because I know that you were not doing it just for yourself but for everyone you love as well.

I know I may have said these things before but I want to say them again…

Thank you for the camping trips, the cookouts, and reminding me to put sunscreen on my nose. Thank you for never missing a recital, birthday, graduation, or game. Thank you for inspiring me to write and I promise you I always will.

I know you said you were sorry you weren’t going to be there for everything but I want you to know you will be because I will have your memory and the lessons you have taught me. And I will carry them with me every day as I stand up tall and put a smile on my face. I love you so very much, Suzanne.