This isn't really creepy, but it is weird, and I've been alternately picking at it and finding comfort in it for years.
I tend to have lucid dreams, and even though I barely remember anything but snatches, I can usually piece together a good yarn out of them in the end. Like the time in the recent past when I dreamed I was trying to prevent someone from killing my chickens in a fire, and the smoke alarm went off. But this dream- I haven't had any like it before or since, even when I put myself into the right frame of mind to try and induce something like it.
It was during my freshman year of college when I had the dream. I was standing in the lobby of my dorm, not really having a purpose. The convenience store had just taken a pizza out of the oven, and you could smell the pepperoni and grease. My friend Denise was on duty, and I was just about ready to go over and say hi to her (I said I had lucid dreams), when this man in white walked up to me and asked him if I remembered him.
Of course I didn't- not right away- he was a lot younger than the last time I'd seen him. But when he got closer, I could recognize the smell. My grandpa, who had passed away in '89, had come to visit me.
I didn't get to see him sick. It was a series of strokes, and it was long before they had methods that would make it survivable. But we had gone to visit him in the hospital the day he died, and I knew when the nurse came out and told us that only my dad could go in, even when Mom was hustling my brother and I away. In that weird, perceptive, little kid way I knew I wouldn't get to see him again.
We hugged each other, and he told me that he was proud of me, and I told him that I missed him. He made me promise to take care of my family, and to keep doing well in school and making them proud. I told him that I loved him, and that he loved me, and the dream ended.
Like I said, I haven't had a dream like that since, but it's given me a very private faith that there's an afterlife, and that my grandparents are OK in it. That could have been that, but there's a bit more to the story that involves my brother.
My brother D, the history buff, was always very close to our Uncle F, the great uncle who had fought in WWII and gave my brother all his books and memorabillia. He passed away not too long after I had the dream. When it was my brother's freshman year in college, he had a very similar dream, where Uncle F greeted him in the lobby of his dorm, and told him in that soft voice of his that he was proud of him.
Again, what this means, I'm not entirely sure. I suppose I'll figure it out.
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I tend to have lucid dreams, and even though I barely remember anything but snatches, I can usually piece together a good yarn out of them in the end. Like the time in the recent past when I dreamed I was trying to prevent someone from killing my chickens in a fire, and the smoke alarm went off. But this dream- I haven't had any like it before or since, even when I put myself into the right frame of mind to try and induce something like it.
It was during my freshman year of college when I had the dream. I was standing in the lobby of my dorm, not really having a purpose. The convenience store had just taken a pizza out of the oven, and you could smell the pepperoni and grease. My friend Denise was on duty, and I was just about ready to go over and say hi to her (I said I had lucid dreams), when this man in white walked up to me and asked him if I remembered him.
Of course I didn't- not right away- he was a lot younger than the last time I'd seen him. But when he got closer, I could recognize the smell. My grandpa, who had passed away in '89, had come to visit me.
I didn't get to see him sick. It was a series of strokes, and it was long before they had methods that would make it survivable. But we had gone to visit him in the hospital the day he died, and I knew when the nurse came out and told us that only my dad could go in, even when Mom was hustling my brother and I away. In that weird, perceptive, little kid way I knew I wouldn't get to see him again.
We hugged each other, and he told me that he was proud of me, and I told him that I missed him. He made me promise to take care of my family, and to keep doing well in school and making them proud. I told him that I loved him, and that he loved me, and the dream ended.
Like I said, I haven't had a dream like that since, but it's given me a very private faith that there's an afterlife, and that my grandparents are OK in it. That could have been that, but there's a bit more to the story that involves my brother.
My brother D, the history buff, was always very close to our Uncle F, the great uncle who had fought in WWII and gave my brother all his books and memorabillia. He passed away not too long after I had the dream. When it was my brother's freshman year in college, he had a very similar dream, where Uncle F greeted him in the lobby of his dorm, and told him in that soft voice of his that he was proud of him.
Again, what this means, I'm not entirely sure. I suppose I'll figure it out.