I am kind of new here, and the reason I am writing this story is because A few years back when I was like around 15 or 16 years old. My Grandmother passed away. This was in 1995. Well the story goes, that after she passed away, I had a dream about her like a month or two after her passing. It was such an interested and luckily dream that I woke up crying but happy because I dreamed her that we were at a chapel where she was lying there in her coffin, and I saw her, not only, I, but my mother, my sisters, and aunts. Well She got up of her coffin, and was glad that she was alive. Like she wasn't dead. She hugged each and one of us. That's why we were happy, because she got up of her coffin, like nothing happened to her. And she seemed okay, and happy. This dream was very happy and joyful because it seemed so really. Like it really happened. And we were all glad, but specially me.
This is the only dream I've had about her. And ever since I haven't dreamed about her no more. Probably because it was a sort of way of her saying goodbye. And I am fine. Or who knows. But I was very glad I had a dream about her.
I wish she was alive. But that's the way it has to be. Hopefully one day when It's my turn to leave. I'll be able to see her again.
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