A Last Goodbye

Posted: August 1, 2013 by linktay in Uncategorized
Tags: , , , , , , ,

Grandma and I, age 14.

Hello everyone. It’s a little rainy and damp outside so I figured what better way to spend a day indoors then to talk about something that has effected my life deeply. I know on our “about us” page we talk all about how we got started and that we’ve seen all these things that have made it difficult to NOT believe there is something out there. Well, that’s what I want to talk about…those things. The things that have opened my eyes, and yours, and led me to believe that there’s more than what I ordinarily perceive.

But more specifically, dreams… have you ever had a dream that stuck with you? Or a dream that you haven’t forgotten even though it’s been years. I only have one dream like that, and I’d even challenge you as to say it wasn’t a dream at all.

My grandmother’s name was Elizabeth, but we all called her Betty. She was somebody people gravitated to because they could sense how special she was. At her wake over 600 hundred people showed up and everybody had a story about something she had done for them. These were people we didn’t even know existed, or knew that she had met. Everybody had a story about my grandmother… everybody there had a special experience they felt they needed to share with us. The most profound thing about my grandmother was that you could sense she was innately good. I never heard her say a bad word about anyone or anything. She loved all things, and all things loved her. Her eyes were the lightest, purest shade of blue… and when they closed for good I felt as though a piece of me had gone with her. For it was her that always encouraged me to sing and even when she was sick with lung cancer some how she got the strength up to go see me perform (small roles). I had always been nervous singing in public, but I knew that singing at her funeral was something I needed to do. My grandmother and I never had a chance to say goodbye. My parents felt as though it was too hard for me to see her in such a state. The cancer had spread to her brain and she simply was not herself anymore. Singing for her that one last time, was how I said goodbye to a woman I had loved with all my heart. I remember people telling me “oh she would have loved that”, “we had no idea you could sing, she would be so proud”. It didn’t matter. All I wanted to know was that she was proud, and I couldn’t know. She was gone.

That night I fell asleep immediately and all of a sudden I was at the beginning of the chapel walking down the main aisle. Everything was exactly how it was in real life. People giving their compliments and consolation, my grandfather in his wheelchair by the front entrance, my aunt behind him, my cousins by the door…. and that’s when I noticed somebody who hadn’t been there… my grandmother. She looked perfect, not how she looked when she had cancer. She looked exactly how she looked when she used to take care of me as a little girl. Her face was full and healthy, her cheeks the softest shade of pink. She was wearing a purple jacket with the gold butterfly pin that she loved so much. She looked like my grandma, and she looked beautiful. It was then that I noticed she was holding the hand of a red-haired woman who I had never seen before. As I looked at them, my grandmother extended her hand and with a beautiful smile looking straight into my eyes, put it gently on cheek and said “Oh Taylor, that was beautiful”. And just like that it was over, I woke up panting. And I realized in that moment, laying in my bed looking up at the fake stars on my ceiling, that she had been telling me goodbye.

I would be lying if I said I wasn’t crying as I wrote this. But I know that what I experienced that night was a not a dream. Since then I have not seen in her in my dreams, though I have felt her presence and love as a constant in my life. One experience I had happened one night when I was driving home from a gig in an awful snow storm. People who live in New England know how scary it can be when the snow is falling so hard you can’t see an inch in front of you. My car was skidding out of control, and my visibility was close to nothing when I called out “Grandma, I’m scared!”. Now, I didn’t see anything. But gradually I was enveloped in a wonderful sense of calm. I righted the car with ease, and calmly drove the rest of the way home. It was as if, in one moment, all the fear in my body had been taken out and replaced with love. I didn’t worry about crashing after that moment, I simply drove home. As if nothing had ever been wrong.

I thank God for every day I spent with my grandmother, and for her beautiful soul.

Grandma and Aunt Sue.

Please share your own experiences with dream visitations in the comments : )

  1. I don’t know if I’ve ever had a dream visitation. I think so, but nothing stands out as particularly profound. (my Dad died when I was nine, so anytime I dream of him I wonder if there’s a reason.) I got a bit teary when you mentioned feeling calm in the snowstorm after calling out to your grandmother. I know that panicked feeling well, (Minnesota girl here) and would love to experience such a moment.

    Did you even figure out who the red-haired woman was?

    • linktay says:

      You know winter!!!!! And I did ask my grandfather once. He thought it sounded like my grandmother’s best friend who died before I was born. Which would make sense because I remember my father saying that my grandmother would see her outside her bedroom window in the days before she died. And that she had reassured my grandmother about heaven. We never saw her, but we all feel she was speaking to someone during these visitations.

    • linktay says:

      Also, thank you for sharing about your father! And I am so glad you enjoyed my post 🙂

  2. Wow that was strange. I just wrote an extremely long comment but after I clicked submit my comment didn’t show up. Grrrr… well I’m not writing all that over again.
    Regardless, just wanted to say superb blog!

  3. Patrick says:

    The only dream visitation that stands out as legitimate happened I guess a year and a half ago and I was moved to blog about it just like you did. My visitor was my great grandma Van Zandt, who died when I was young. Her son, my grandfather, had just died recently when I had the dream visit. I wish I remembered a specific message. It all seemed to be so telepathic. I only remember a kind of general feeling or message of “Everything is going to be okay.”

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