Dreams or God Damn my last few entries were too deep…

So, let’s just admit that I’ve been a wee bit “poor me” lately. I should have every reason to be filled with hate and venom, but it just wraps around and good times POP in.. Enuf of that!!!!  * Yes, I meant to spell it wrong spelling Nazis…. 😝

ANY HOO..  Dreams.

Last night I had one of the most vivid dreams I can remember having in a long time. Sure I have had the ones where you wake up and have that several second thought about way it did or didn’t suck, but nothing like this. So, I hope it doesn’t mean anything is going to happen to me, I’ve been through enough. * See I do know how to spell it

I was at my grandmother’s house, exactly how I remembered it right down to the smell of Newports and whatever Avon perfume she wore. It must have been around the time I was 10 or 11, she still had the little black and white on the creaky metal tv stand. Of course she was in the middle of crocheting something with said Newport hanging from her mouth with the longest ash on it that for some reason only women of a certain age, who smoke, could have. I swear, when I used to smoke the ashes would instantly be all over my shirt or flying into my eyes, but old woman could flail their arms and the damn ash never fell off..

My uncle Bob was there too. A man whose hair fashion I unfortunately inherited, yet he was a snowbird living in Arizona half the year and the constant tan the man had made the baldness all the better for him. Now he always smelt of Camels and Aqua Velva and sure enough I could smell that in the dream also. Honestly I remember that cigarettes didn’t really put off that horrible of smell then, maybe because they were the brand kind and not what passes as cigarettes, well affordable cigs, today.

My Nani, as my siblings and I called her, which I recently learned is what Indians, from India, call their maternal grandmother, so being that my Nani was totally of German decent, make me wonder how she was saddled with the name, had decorated for Christmas. The front sitting room of her house covered top to bottom with holiday cheer. She really knew how to decorate a tree.

Neither of them talked, but acknowledged me with smiles, as I stood in the living room. I made my way out through the dinning room/kitchen to go to the little side room, that was used as a bedroom for whoever was lucky enough to be able to spend the night, and laid down on the small single bed. The smell of the room, it was always pleasant and comforting. The feel of the crocheted top blanket underneath me and knowing that the quilt underneath was the most comfortable bedding you could ever have, made me wake to tears.

I’ve cried a lot, A LOT, over the last few years, but never from happiness. I thought by the afternoon, the dream would have faded from my mind and the memories of a much, much simpler time of my life would turn from the happiness I had waken with, to a sadness and longing to go back, but it didn’t. I want to hold onto this feeling, even though I know that the present will still be filled with more and more crap and the holidays will be spent alone.