Katie Doyle, Girl About Town

Monday, Mar. 31, 2003 - 2:38 a.m.

I had a dream this morning that woke me up. I was at my gramma and grampa's house, which is my gramma's now, because Grampa died in 1997, and there were 3 or 4 other people there, about my age, though all from different backgrounds and really having no real reason to be there. I do not know who they were, either in real life or in the context of the dream, and one of them was randomly British, of all ridiculous things, but whatever. We were all there because Gramma was dying. Only strangely enough, I was the only one who had ever been in the house before, even though my gramma has lived there since she married Grampa 41.5 years ago, and Grampa was born there. But anyway. The fireplace that runs the entire width of the den had been removed. Basically stolen, until there was only the middle 5 feet or so of hearth. Even the brick around the front corner face of the open fire space (technically the hearth) was gone. And I was really upset about that, I guess because I have always loved that fireplace and the vast width of the hearth. And I'm sure I dreamt it had been stolen, because my Uncle Butch, my grandfather's son and Gramma's stepson has stolen every other item of worth out of the house since my grandmother fell ill. Literally the only things still in the house are the fireplace and the huge wagon wheel banister that stands alongside the front steps going down into the room. Fucker. But I digress. We were in this room, and I was crying while they dispassionately divided up my gramma's things and decided who should be responsible for what part of whatever arrangements needed to be made, and suddenly there was this older gentleman standing to my left and smiling at me, and I was so relieved and overjoyed to see him. And I have some feeling he is someone I should know, though he did not look like anyone I remember ever knowing, and for some reason was wearing a tuxedo. Really, he looked impeccable, right down to his black bowtie and cumberbund. Not a wrinkle to be seen or a hair out of place. In the middle of the afternoon. But I jumped up to hug him, and no one else seemed to hear or see him or be aware of him there or that I was talking to him. He said we should go up into the living room, so we did, and I wanted to tell him how happy I was to see him and all that, but he said that gramma had sent him, and he came to tell me that she had been happy to be leaving and happy when she left, and that she was happy now, where she was. And I woke up and realized that my grandmother will not be here much longer. In fact, I wondered if she was already dead. I called my mom and told her I didn't think Gramma was going to be here much longer, and Mom said no, she believes Gramma is dying and that she told her caregiver she wants to die when she went back to the emergency room a few days ago (which I had not known about)(the visit, not that she was ready). I know she's ready, because I've had that talk with her, but I think it time to have the talk I should have had a long time ago, when she was lucid enough to have it, but I really wasn't ready for then. Damn it. Why do people never get to have those kinds of talks when both people are ready for them? Seriously, why? :(

Anyway, it was just kind of weird, but kind of calming, and it sounds odd, I know, but this kind of thing happens to me sometimes, and I believe that somehow that was my grandmother, making sure I got the message.

Peace out,
Katie

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