Your granddaughter Rita had a dream that my husband died and I was in a panic as I had nowhere to live and possibly no money. She said she was crying all through her dream, obviously saddened by it. I think she worried that it might come true. I think the dream was trying to tell her something. Dreams are individual and not necessarily for other people—yes? No?
Do you remember when I asked you in the dream state if you would help Dad cross over to the other side? It felt like Dad was ready to go and yet he was hanging on for some reason. I figured since you were already there, maybe you could give him a hand.
In the dream Dad was driving and you were the passenger. Warren and I were sitting in the back seat. Dad was drunk and obnoxious. You sat there quietly like you could have cared less. I pushed you on the shoulder and said, “Why are you taking this?” You just shrugged. Then I yelled at Dad, “How can you be so mean? Here’s Mom and you’re acting like a jerk.” We stopped, got out of the car and everyone went their merry way—only I said, “I’m driving myself from now on.”
As I wrote the dream down, I knew it meant that everyone decides for themselves when it’s time to move on. It wasn’t for you to help Dad along. He had to make that decision.
Dreams can be interesting, don't you think?