Dreaming of Gran

It was like a number of dreams I had known before. I was soaring through the ether and my heart felt light. Cares fell away like a coat too long worn. No glancing back to see where my parts fell.

Only forward. And on. And upwards. Head back, arms drifting slightly from my sides and the expectation within rising.

At last, here was freedom from life and worries. No more menus to plan, no more washing to do, no more teenage tantrums to quell. Yet none of this occurred. Just lightness and bubbling expectancy.  Nothing troubled me. Not then.

Air without temperature rushed past. I was in a hurry to be somewhere. Mountains and rivers and clouds lay below but out of view from eyes raised heavenwards.

Too suddenly, I arrived at my destination, with a somersault of heart and a quickening of breath. My grandmother stood before me, shimmering in whiteness. Her deep-set eyes blazed with life renewed. Her presence spoke youth even while I recognised her as the elderly woman I had loved so well.

Grandmother and Godmother. I had been twice blessed by this woman my own mother had called mother.

She smiled as if to a long lost daughter and I cried for joy at the reunion with a woman whose passing had not reduced me to tears at age 12 but whose presence had been sorely missed and fondly remembered.

Slight in build and stature but huge in warmth and kindness.

Quick to speak her mind.

Loving in her rebukes.

Her smiles and kindness warmed my heart as a child.

Now, her joy and fulfillment shone in that smile and I felt thankful.

Her difficult life had been rewarded.