Dear Grandma

Dear Grandma,

I dreamt of you today.

In my dream, you exclaimed with joy and had that childish but toothless grin when you saw me. How I miss your smile…

You were hugging me, and your first words were “You are alive!” What an odd thing to hear from you, Grandma.

I staggered on my knees and stammered as I returned your embrace. I glanced above your bony shoulder and realized that we were in a room littered with boys’ toys. Were they mine?

I picked up an old photo album from the floor and started to show you the pictures inside. I wanted to explain why I felt odd to see you. I wanted to show you your last picture, where you had an eternal smile etched on your face but everyone else was crying.

Instead, I found pictures of me from the past. Old pictures of myself when I was still young and naïve, and pictures of me when I grew older and still naïve. You flipped through them, smiled affectionately at most and knowingly at few.

I was happy and I could tell that you were, too. But the pictures came to an end, and so did you. You were gone, and I was left standing in a dark room, clutching an old photo album.

I woke up, and tears rolled down on my cheeks. These were ones of sadness, happiness, and apology. How real surreal things could be. And how odd it was when the dead had to come to comfort the living.