Matisse’s The Dream
It’s always a treat to post one of D Page’s synchros from her fascinating blog, mythic musings. We ran across this one and asked if we could repost it. It beautifully illustrates that our connections with loved ones who pass on are never severed by death.
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Halloween was my grandmother Mary’s birthday, so it became my favorite childhood holiday. It was a birthday she’d share with her best friend for life – Emily.
We were very close when she died in my late 20’s (late 1980’s). We had made an agreement, and renewed the agreement many times: whoever died first would contact the other. The week before she died she called me (in San Diego) from her home in Toronto, Canada. “Debra, I want you to promise me that if I die, and you have made plans to be somewhere, or do something, don’t cancel the plans. And don’t bother sending flowers. I won’t be there to see them anyway.” (She had always felt that flower arrangements were a terrible waste of money.) I was a little perplexed as to why she said these things, but I gave her my word. With her, if you gave your word you had to carry it through!
The next weekend, my husband and I had reservations to attend a Medieval Times event in Los Angeles on Saturday. On the Friday night before , my father called and said “Your grandmother is dead.” No details… nothing. I was in a terrible state of grief. I told my husband about my conversation with her the week before, and we agreed to attend the event, as I promised her.
That night I fell into a fitful sleep. Suddenly, I found my self in a lucid dreaming state, and my grandmother was standing there. Don’t ask me why, but I blurted out “Gram, why are you in a hospital gown?”
“Because I died in the hospital,” she replied in a matter of fact way. At this point it was clear that our relationship was exactly the same… nothing had changed due to her new “condition”. She waved her arm and was shown real-time scenes of my Aunt, Uncle and cousins in her condo in Toronto, Canada. They were sorting things things into boxes to keep, or give to the Salvation Army. Then the scene changed, and we were on a boat crossing a river. There was a beautiful glass or crystal city on an island in the distance. Halfway across the river, she said (in her no nonsense way); “This is as far as you can come with me.” I started crying as she enfolded me in her arms. I woke up in my room, smelling her rose perfume.
We did go to Medieval Times, which is something my grandmother would have loved. She was very into all things British, especially the Queens. It was very hard for me to go through with that day. I kept crying. On Sunday, my cousin, whom I had seen in the vision, called to give me the Memorial details. I told her I wouldn’t be attending. I also her about my grandmother’s visit and what I had seen her and her family doing in the vision. She gasped, and said that it was true… and they did give boxes of stuff to the Salvation Army.
Time passed. Then, I started having repeated visits from my grandmother. She kept showing me the same scene: In a dresser drawer there were many envelopes and small boxes. She urgently wanted me to see something.
This was repeated periodically for over 11 years. I had no way of knowing where this dresser was. I knew it wasn’t something my cousins or my father knew anything about. The only remaining relative in Canada was an uncle who was somewhat reclusive, and I had no way of contacting him.
On February 29, 2000 (leap day), a small package arrived via US mail. It was postmarked Toronto, Canada. Inside was a small blue box containing silver medallion of Queen Elizabeth, commemorating the 1976 Montreal Olympics. There was a very sweet note from my elusive uncle. “You grandmother always wanted you to have this. You were loved very much.” I knew this would be the end of the repeated dream episodes of urgently searching through the drawer.
Though those episodes were over, Mary still visits me. I can feel her loving presence and smell her rose perfume.
Thanks, Trish & Rob, for sharing the story. 🙂 I hope the story comforts others the way my grandmother's presence has comforted me.
I second Jen's comment—in fact that was exactly what I was thinking when I finished the story!
wv: metrocl (does this allude to the "Selenite Metropolis?!")
yes, a truly beautiful story – it's always so gratifying to hear these which carry such a sense of familiarity – and knowing – great post!
Such a lovely story, Debra. I enjoyed it very much.
I too, have seen the crystal city in meditation many,many times. To me, it looks like Selenite.
People often report the river, or a gate in a beautiful field, or a door that they are not permitted to enter.I think it is shown in the manner which you would find the most comfortable.
I will be mighty peeved if I don't get to see the Selenite City when I get over there! 🙂
When I first read debra's story, I wondered if the river is the River Styx, and the crystal city is a version of the after life.
I love this story!!
I read this on d's blog and felt an instant resonance. I was very close with my Grandma, and have been thinking of her lately. She has all her children with her now – the last and youngest returned 'home' earlier this year.
A touching post – our loved ones live on as will we.
Lovely post.
When I was a child at night in my dreamstate I would often visit this beautiful crystal city.
I have been able to visit a few times in adult hood but I have such fond memories of those times. It was
so beautiful.
And, yes our souls do go on that is why for me, funerals are so difficult. Often the deceased is there trying to tell everyone how wonderful it is! It is hard to show sadness when all you are feeling is elation!
It's funny (for me) that the Salvation Army is mentioned in the above post.My Father-in law's parents were in the Salvation Army and he was brought up in it as a child,but later renounced it.They've all past on,so the other side is no mystery to them at all,now.