Red Riding Hood Productions

This morning.

This morning I was in some kind of lake, in an inner tube, floating around and having fun. I was maybe 4 or 5 years old and my Grampa was there. He looked like he was in his early 30's. His face was clear and serene and full of smiles. We were having so much fun and we were laughing, and I felt so good to be with him.

Then there was a blaring noise and he was gone and I woke up to my alarm clock.

I was dissappointed when I woke up. I wanted to go back to that dream. I miss hanging out with him so bad, even though it's been more than 20 years. But I'm happy to at least have had that simple split second of sweetness.

I had another dream about him once.

I was on a bus and he was there. I had a movie camera like the one he gave my Dad 30 years ago. It was in a bag next to me. He was sitting a couple rows ahead and I saw him. My older brother was on the bus also, but he was on the other side and a few more rows ahead. My brother was a little blurry somehow and I couldn't really see him so well, I just sort of knew he was there. In the dream I knew my Grampa wasn't supposed to be there (He died when I was 7). So I said "Grampa, what are you doing here?" and he said "I'm going fishing." So I asked if I could come with him and he said yes. We got off on the next stop and I realized I had left my movie camera on the seat on the bus. I told my Grampa and he got all annoyed and said "Now we're going to be late."

Then I woke up.

It was like somehow the second I thought about the camera, and having to get it back, my dream was over and my Grampa was gone. Like the camera somehow made me aware of the boundries of this world even while I was still inside the dream. Like if I could only have not thought about the camera I could have hung out with him forever.

Thing is, I realized all of that in my dream, but the second I realized it I was awake, left only with this palpable sort of sad sweetness of seeing someone for a second that you never want to go away, after you havn't seen them for an unbearably long time.

When I told my brother about the dream, his first question was "Why didn't *I* go fishing with you and Grampa?" I think my brother was really pretty hurt that he didn't come with us in my dream. I don't know why he didn't. It was all sort of a magic moment. Like if I breathed wrong it would be over like it never existed in the first place.

I really just wish my Grampa would visit me more often.
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Tonight:

I told my Mom about the dream I had this morning and she told me that when she was a kid they used to go somewhere in the summer where she would play in the lake all day, floating in inner tubes. She said my Grampa loved the lake. He would always be playing and swimming in the water with her and my aunt and uncles. She said he would always be smiling and having fun.

She told me she was talking to my Bubby (yiddish for Grandma) this morning about those summers and how much my Grampa loved them.

My Bubby has some kind of senile dementia (sp?) and usually can't remember most stuff, but my Mom said she's had a good week. I'll call her tomorrow.