Dream Dust

Originally posted April 25, 2012

“Grandma, I’m afraid to go to sleep.”

“Why?”

“I have bad dreams.”

“Hmmm. Just try to relax. Dreams aren’t real.”

“I can’t. I try.” a tiny tear slides down her cheek.

“Well, let me see.” Grandma reaches into her pocket. “Now where did I put that?”

“What, Grandma?”

“You will see when I find it.” Searching under the bed. “Oh, yes, I remember. One second, I’ll be back.”

Her eyes follow Grandma out of the room. When Grandma comes back, her hands are cupped around something.

“What you got, Grandma?”

“Something special for you. It only takes a little bit.”

Grandma carefully opens her hand and the girl looks puzzled.

“But, Grandma, there is nothing there.”

“Oh, but there is. This is a secret dream dust past down through our family. I will sprinkle a little around the room and on you. Then you only have wonderful happy dreams.”

Those brown eyes widened with disbelief and hopefulness. Grandma carefully sprinkled the dust around. “That should do it,” she says. “Now I will put the extra on your dresser in its silk bag so you can use it as needed. Okay, now off to sleep and you will see that it works.”

Grandma spends time tucking covers and kissing rosy cheeks as eyes close and the girl drifts off to sleep.

Next morning, Grandma is greeted with hugs, kisses, and big smile. “Grandma, it worked! I had the best dream ever.”

Thus began a special nighttime ritual whenever they were together long after the girl was grown. Then the day came that Grandma became seriously ill and it was the girls turn to sprinkle special dust around Grandma so she would find peace while a tiny tear slides down her cheek.

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Author: Pamela K. Young

I have not only lived many chapters in one life, but many lives in one body. The person I am today is far wiser than the me of young adulthood. My life is like your life with its ebb and flow. We are all connected in some way. I am a wife, mother, and grandmother, but what makes me, well, me is the way I wife, mother, and grandmother. I am a liver transplant survivor. Whatever devastation you have survived, we survived in our individual ways. I create with words and photos. I am a writer and photographer.

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