My grandfather died in 2004, I was seven at the time. I remember how it happened vividly, but I vaguely remember why he died. I understood through conversations with my grandmother and aunt that he had lung cancer and was very sick for a couple of months, but I cannot remember one moment where I saw him like that. He was always strong, loving, caring. It pains me to say that I cannot remember a moment where I was there for them because I cannot recall a moment where I felt he needed help.

When he died, my cousins prayed for my grandfather to speak them in his dreams. They told me stories about seeing him on the edge of their beds and holding a conversation with him. I prayed for my grandfather to not come out while I slept because I knew I would be afraid of him and I did not want him to think that I feared him because I love him. I think he heard me because he never came into my dreams, until yesterday.

I had my first dream with him. He came up to me, held my hand, and we started walking. I woke with no clue that I had dreamt this until I spoke to my father and the words slipped out of my mouth. “I had a dream with grandpa last night.” And thats when I noticed that I did. “Sometimes we see those who have passed in our dreams” he replied. I never knew he saw him too.

Although it was a dream that lasted a short period of time, it was one that I have not stopped thinking about since I spoke to my dad. Why now grandpa? Am I ready to hear from you? Is 18 the age you were waiting for? Are you trying to tell me something?

Please, do not wait eleven years to speak to me again. I miss you.


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