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I had a dream last night that I was in my Grandma Henry’s house. It was present day and my niece, Jennifer, had moved into the property and turned it into an amazing house. It was painted a beautiful light blue and, she explained to me as she stood curling her hair in the modern bathroom, she had incorporated a lot of the stuff Grandma had left behind into her modern designs.

My sister, Janet, found a collection of 3″ Virgin Mary red resin statues, that my niece was using as decoration, at each place setting on the dining room table. Janet said “Don’t you remember that Grandma used to make us hold these statues between our knees and say 3 Hail Mary’s before we could eat dinner? It was to keep us from having pre-marital sex”

“Oh yeah.” I said, “I had forgotten how Irish and religious she was.”

Then I woke up and slowly came back to present day. In the fugue between dream and reality, I thought, ‘I need to write about how Irish and Catholic Grandma was’ but the clearer my mind became, the more I realized, my Grandma Henry was neither Irish nor Catholic. She died 29 years ago, at the too young age of 58, when I was just 8 years old. The house she lived in was tiny, maybe 700 sq ft and has long since been the property of some other family.

I am trying to analyze this dream. It is the first time I’ve travelled to Grandma Henry’s house in my dreams. I have a recurring dream about being in my Grandma Berg’s house right after she died, but curiously enough, I’ve never gone to the Henry abode until last night. I’ve come up with the following theory: I’m writing about my Dad and his life, but I’ve only been able to write some fiction(ish) stories about his mother. I am finding ways around that block, but in the meantime felt I should at least write in the ballpark of his life. In my mind, I believe I might be taking liberties with his Mother’s life and exaggerating the story a little. My mind decided to deal with it by taking the fiction farther than I could or would.

It was a fun dream, I got to see my niece and my sister, who I won’t get the opportunity to see this Christmas. It also got me thinking about my Grandma, who should be thought of, remembered and even glamorized a little, under the right circumstance. 🙂

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