An Aunt’s Dream


Dreaming (Photo credit: MooBob42)

An Aunt’s Dream

When I stepped out of the car, my odometer indicated I had traveled about 620 miles. Still ahead was the trip the next morning through the country to the mortuary. I was traveling to my last aunt’s funeral.

I will remain puzzled by my cousin’s choice of a clergy person to conduct the services. Oh, the man selected to do the eulogy was competent, but he was a stranger. He began the eulogy with the cautionary words, “Correct me if I am wrong about any of the details, but this is what I gathered from our conversations and by phone.” Later another of her nephews remarked that he was sincere, and I suppose that is correct.

We were honoring my late aunt, Georgia June Hubble, who had lived 85 years. She was the last of five siblings. It was the close of Christmas day when I last saw her. She was in good humor and relatively good health that day. Three months later her remains were laid to rest if a small country cemetery.

Funerals provoke memories, and I was reminded of a story my Aunt told me about a dream. My Aunt was the youngest of the family, the baby. She was only three or four when her father died. It seems understandable that the mother-daughter bond between her and my grandmother would be exceptionally strong. When her mother died, she lost her only remaining parent, and the blow was exceptionally hard.

Not long after the passing of her mother my aunt had an unforgettable dream. The grandmother I remember was a short woman with white hair. The woman who came to my aunt in her dream was a much younger woman dressed in a long, flowing robe of exceptional beauty. If my aunt and her mother had a conversation in the dream I cannot say. It was the appearance of my grandmother as a youthful and peaceful woman who inspired my aunt.

She had told me the story at least twice if not more often. Sitting in her living room on Green Acres Drive she related the dream. “I knew that my mother was in a better place, and I took comfort in knowing that,” she said.

Dreams are not the sort of things you would discuss with an honorary clergy person. Dreams so often melt away with the first frost. My aunt’s dream stayed around long enough to make an impression upon her life. I suppose it impressed me too.


One thought on “An Aunt’s Dream

  1. “Dreams so often melt away with the first frost.”

    –I am in love with this sentence. I haven’t been so affected by a pairing of words like this in quite some time.

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