I'm supposed to do something completely different with my time here on Hive at the moment but then I came across this week's QOTW, and since it had to be written by Friday (it's still Friday somewhere 😄) I decided to throw my Spiritual experiences in the mix. The other thing will be done soon too. Sorry @thisismylife 🙃. (Still having issues with my account...)

Messages in dreams

I've had a few dreams in my life that either taught me something, passed on messages about questions I had, or some that kept returning and seemed to have a message but I didn't know what they were at the time. I have such a recurring dream a lot lately. I'm not even getting into this one because it's a dream of which I can only recall the outline, haven't figured out what it means yet, but know it's important. Until I do figure it out, I'll keep it to myself.

There was one particular dream that I will always remember, and it helped my through some of the tougher times in my life. I was about 19 years old or so, and my grandmother had passed away in the year before. I had always had an amazing relationship with her, and since I was the youngest of her grandchildren, I believe I was her favourite in a way. She loved all of her grandchildren, of course, but I was born 4 years after the second youngest, my cousin, and she didn't see him half as much as she saw me.

When I was a baby, my grandmother moved in with us to take care of me while my parents ran their business, a busy hotel across the street from a famous, and popular amusement park in the Netherlands. From the moment I could sit up in the stroller, till I was three years old, she would bring me to that park every single day during its season, without fail. She would bring me to my favourites every day, without complaining, even though it must have been boring for her at times. The same songs, the same fairy tales, the same rides...even the most patient person would have enough at some stage. Nevertheless, I never had the feeling that she was doing it against her will. It always felt like she enjoyed it as much as I did. These years were some of the best of my life. My first memories were with my grandmother in it. I said 'Oma' before I said 'mama'...

In my teenage years, she was the one that was there for me to talk to, when my mother couldn't. Or better: when I felt my mother didn't get me like she did. She always managed to let me see two sides of the story: mine, and my mother's. Without ever talking a bad word about my mom, she'd make me see how much alike we actually were, how my mother had made similar mistakes in her life, and therefore wanted to protect me from doing the same.

When my grandmother passed away at the age of 81, unexpectedly in her sleep, I felt so many different kinds of emotions all at once. Out of everyone, I think it was the most difficult for me dealing with her death. In my opinion, I wasn't done with her. I still needed her more than ever, and it wasn't fair that she just left me when I still needed her. My mother tried to reason that it was good that she went the way she did. She went for a nap in the afternoon, and just never woke up. I should be glad that this happened, and that she didn't get sick and suffer.
Of course, I would never want her to suffer, and I was glad that she didn't have to but that didn't take away from the fact that I felt like she was taken from me without warning, and that I missed having her around, and visiting her.

source

The visit

I would always visit my grandmother on a Tuesday in the year before her passing. Without fail, every Tuesday she'd make me my favourite food (the kind of food only a grandmother can get right). We'd watch her favourite soaps together, and because it was the only time in the week I'd watch them, she'd bring me up to speed about the storyline, whatever Brooke was up to now, and how she hoped that Ridge would see right through her because he deserved better (yes, I'm talking about the Bold & Beautiful 😄). We'd wash the dishes together, I'd do a few chores for her, like taking out the trash, and I always tried to stay with her, just talking, as long as I could.

Then there was one Tuesday that I missed. I am not even sure why that was. I believe I cancelled last moment, and she wasn't happy about it but never complained... At least not right then. A few days later, I spoke to her on the phone and she told me that she'd been a bit disappointed that I hadn't visited her that week. I felt guilty, and she was right: it was the one time in the week just for the two of us, and I'd let her down. I knew I would visit again the next Tuesday but something told me that I had to make it up to her, so I told her I'd come over that day as well. It was Friday. She never mentioned a word about it that day, and we went through the day chatting doing the things we always did. I was the last person in our family that saw her that week. She passed away on Monday...

When my mother called me with the bad news, I had feelings of regret, for not visiting that one day. My mother told me that I should be happy that I'd seen her just before she passed, and that I hadn't waited till the next Tuesday...
And then I realized that there was something that told me to go see her before the Tuesday. Something definitely intervened and pushed me to do something I usually didn't do. I think I wouldn't have been able to forgive myself if I hadn't seen her when I did. Something, or someone made sure that I had that time with her. Whatever it was, I will forever be grateful that I listened to that inner voice.

Signs and jokes

In the months that followed my grandmother's passing, there were definitely things that made me go: 'Oh, OOOOOKAY....' I felt her presence around me more than once. Things that would disappear from one place, and then reappear in another place when I knew with 100% surety that I hadn't moved it.
You could easily mistake these events with my wish to have her around me a bit longer and wishing these 'signs' into presence, were it not that there were other people who witnessed these things as well.

My grandmother would always joke that she'd send me messages and signs in the form of jokes. That she'd open windows and doors whenever I'd think about her, just to let me know that she was still there, or that she'd move things around the place so I'd scratch my head and wonder if it was her or if I had misplaced things and forgotten about it. I knew it was her...

One day I was in the shower. Beside the shower, there was a big window that was very hard to open. It was an old house, and its windows, especially that one, were almost like they were welded in. I always had to push my shoulder into the thing to open it. So it was a bit of a shock, and surprise, when the window suddenly opened with a lot of noise, just as I was in the shower.
It got really cold in the bathroom right away, and I was shivering, both because of the shock, and the cold. I cut the shower short, got dressed, and left the bathroom to see one of my room mates running down the stairs to see if I was OK. He heard the window open with such force, he thought something happened to me! When I told him that it had opened on its own, we both stared at each other in disbelief. We both knew that this couldn't have happened from a gust of wind or anything else. It was then when I remembered my grandmother's words, and I almost heard her laughing out loud. She'd always had a funny sense of humor!

The dream of comfort

It was about a year after the above, when I had two new roommates. I had invited them to stay with me, in the empty apartment above mine (it was one big house with several rooms, the first floor was mine) as they were staying in a caravan until then. We were already friends before that, and we were working together. Both men were Scottish, and somehow I got along with them really well, and we became quite close in a very short time.

One day, I was at home with just one of the two. We ended up talking about nothing in particular, had a few drinks, and a few smokes... Somehow the conversation went to my grandmother. I felt a bit sad because I still missed her every day, and I was going through some issues that year, and really felt she would have made a big difference if she'd still been around.
Of course, all of that was wishful thinking but my roommate understood exactly what I felt, and talking to him about it did a lot of good. I told him that my grandmother and grandfather had been married since he was 18. That he had lied about his age to her at first, because she was 2 years older than him, and he was afraid she wouldn't go out with a younger man. After all, he was only 16, and she was 18 when they met... It was a funny story, and she did break up with him for a while after she found out, but they had found each other again, and got married as soon as he turned 18...
Their story was a love story from a romantic novel. One that we'd all would wish for. Any way, I told my friend that after my grandfather passed away, three months before I was born, my grandmother never remarried, or even wanted to meet another man. He was her one true love, and that was that. He couldn't be replaced. I wondered if there was such a thing as an afterlife, and if so, whether my grandparents were together now. From the stories my mother, and my grandmother always told me, I knew that the feelings were mutual. My grandfather had his wife on a pedestal. She was his queen, and that's how he treated her. They used to travel together when travel wasn't really done by the average person. The technicolor postcards she saved showed the evidence of travel to Italy, France, Spain, Norway, the UK, and Germany. They had a good life of travel, dancing, and parties. But also of WWII, and its aftermath.

When I went to sleep that night, I had a peculiar dream. I dreamed that I went to visit my parents. When I walked in, no one was home. I heard music, faintly coming from upstairs. This was strange because my parents had the habit of leaving the radio on for the dog downstairs, not upstairs.
I opened the door to the stairwell and called up: 'Hello? Is anybody there?'
No answer. So I decided to have a look where the music came from, and walked up the stairs. The sound came from the attic...My old room! When I came up into the room, I saw my grandparents dancing together...Smiling faces, full of happiness.
It was the answer to my question earlier. And it was just what I needed. When I woke up, I realized that I didn't need my grandmother as much as I thought I did. Of course, I still missed her, and that was OK, but I had found my own two feet in life, and I'd be fine.
I felt her presence less and less after that, and eventually, not at all.
She was where she needed to be, and that wasn't here with us.

I know there are ways to explain my experiences in a scientific way. Some might even argue that I made it up, that it was all in my head. That could have been the case, I know. But whatever it was, it was just what I needed when I needed it. She was there, even after she passed away to guide me through some of the rougher times, until I found my own path. To be honest, I don't care if it was real or not, to me it was, and it was the proof that I needed to show me that the spiritual world was real. It was something that guided me later in life, and in a way still is. I have my grandmother to thank for that. ♥️