[QUOTE=Lissa]
I was having a really hard time dealing with the death of my aunt a few years ago. About a month after she died, I dreamed that she picked me up in her red convertible, and we went driving along windy country roads, listening to Tom Petty. It was incredibly vivid. I could hear the leaves as they blew across the asphalt, and I swear I could smell her cigarette smoke. At the end of my dream, I got out of the car, and she put her sunglasses back on, and drove off, calling over her shoulder, “See you later!”
As strange as it sounds, it was one of the most moving dreams of my life. I’m actually crying as I type this, remembering.
After that dream, I had a little more peace of mind. I felt like I could “let her go.” I don’t believe in an afterlife, but God, that’s what I’d wish for her: eteranally cruising in her convertible (she LOVED that car) on a warm fall day, “Free Fallin’” blaring from the speakers.
[/QUOTE]
I’ve told the story before, but I’ll bore you again.
About 3 weeks before my mother died, I had a visitation style dream where she showed up at my place about a hundred miles away from hers to go out for breakfast. We went, and as we walked across the parking lot to go into the greasy spoon, I asked, “Mom, why are you here? You know you’re really in bed dying, and not healthy like you appear now. No, wait. Don’t say anything. You just stand there, and let me look at you like you are.”
Her response was, “This is how I want you to remember me, not as I really am now.”
I was on the phone to my sister about 30 seconds after I woke up to make sure something didn’t happen overnight.