A Dream

Addie and I

I dreamed about you, my dear granddaughter. We saw each other unexpectedly at a family gathering. We hugged each other tightly and I cried a little. I was so very glad to see you. You knew me and I was surprised about that. Then you showed me your coat. It was a little furry coat with an unusual lining. On that lining was written many pieces of history--to remember. In the dream I suddenly remembered making that coat for you, sewing it so lovingly and tenderly for your future away from me, to keep you warm and safe.

When it was sewn together, I wrote on the lining. It wasn't a personal letter that I wrote. I wrote many things I thought you might want to know. Most things were ordinary and commonplace, just so you wouldn't forget. I sewed my love into the coat and the things I wrote were written in love as well.

I felt warm when I awoke this morning. I knew the dream was true. There will be many grandchildren I won't be able to hug and play with in person. As time passes, so will I, but children will keep coming. The things I've written, even commonplace and seemingly of little value, will be left for them to tell of my love.

Now, as I write this post, I receive the love intended for me from those who have gone before. Those many many grandmothers and grandfathers and aunts and uncles and cousins who didn't leave specific messages for me personally, but what they left is written with love as well. I'm sure that they, like me, think of generations past and generations future and leave the written word with their love inscribed therein. It's winter now, and I am warmed by my little furry coat.