Peace from Beyond

8 Nov

Last night — well, all day yesterday, really — I was in a total funk. I felt on edge, like any little thing might (and some did) totally set me off. I have spent the last couple of months feeling like I am wandering through my life with little to no direction, almost as if — as one friend put it — I’m watching my life go on around me without any input or control on my part.

After my trip, which in and of itself was wonderful and fulfilling for a lot of reasons, my return to reality has served to further highlight just how shitty I am feeling lately. I’m stressed beyond belief about money, my impending divorce, work (and lack thereof), family, the fact that I get to start paying back my student loans this months and have to register my car and am about to lose my medical insurance and have zero room in my budget (and I use that term loosely) to cover any of this.

When I got home from work around 1 a.m., I avoided dealing with any of this in a mature, responsible manner by passing out on the couch after a little too much bonding time with my bottle of Grey Goose. I slept like crap, but I never worked up the gumption to relocate my drunk ass to my bed.

Upon waking this morning, I laid here on the couch in a post-sleep/hangover haze. I had a surreal feeling, like a dream I had was still with me. In a good way. As my mind wandered back to what had just transpired in my head, I realized I had been dreaming about my grandfather.

My mom’s dad — Grandpa to us kids — passed away when I was 12 years old. Explaining how much he meant to me, to our entire family, would take a whole blog post of its own.  He was a disabled WWII veteran and also talented, charismatic, and intelligent.  I miss him to this very day.

I don’t have dreams about him as often as I used to have. But the ones I have share some of the same characteristics. In them, he is always in good health, with no signs of the fused vertebrae that debilitated him here on earth.  In my dreams, I seem to be the only person who knows he has passed away. It’s like he shows back up and I’m surprised to see him but no one else is.  And I”m afraid to ask any questions about why he’s here or how he is healed, because it might somehow make him go away.

Despite this conundrum, dreaming about my grandpa makes me happy. His presence is so calming and peaceful. Even though it doesn’t make whatever problem I’m having go away, when I wake up I feel like he’s still with me surrounding me with love from somewhere else and letting me know it will all be okay.

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