“We’re so close to something better left unknown”

It would be a lie to say that I don’t believe in the supernatural – Lord knows how I can’t even watch movies in that genre – but when something out of the ordinary happens, the first conclusion that I’d come to would never involve anything of that sort. The rational part of my brain kicks in and I’d try to sort things out logically. This is not to say that I don’t believe in ghosts, or rather, spirits, but I feel somewhat safer if they didn’t come into the picture.

Two nights ago I had a vivid dream of a series of events which, I swear to God, I didn’t even put a thought into before I went to sleep. The last scenario of the dream involved my grandmother, the one who’d passed away two years ago.

A bit of a side track, first – you know how some people (read: my religious family members) say that when you dream of someone deceased, and that someone talks to you, it is actually the Devil in play and not the spirit of the deceased? Or something like that. I don’t like to believe it though, because when you dream of someone deceased whom you really miss and wish you could talk to once again, and you did, but only in a dream, the last thing you’d want them to be is the Devil.

But anyway, that’s just some food for thought.

So in this dream, it was just the three of us – my dad, my sister and I. The original trio. We were taking a road trip to an isolated village in the jungle; I remember having to cross bridges made out of bamboo and trekking through a whole lot of trees. Turned out, we were visiting my grandmother. She was living alone; she was suffering from Alzheimer’s, and she was constantly talking to herself. Talking about events that had happened ages ago, but in her frail mind, had only happened days prior.

She’d talked to me. I had cried. I don’t remember specifically what we talked about, but just being able to talk to her was overwhelming. She was crying; she was sad. She was aged, living alone, living in her memories and the past. She needed someone to take care of her, and the waves of guilt that hit me at that point were indescribable – I wanted to stay, but I couldn’t. I don’t remember why I couldn’t stay, but the look on her face when I told her, just swallowed me up whole.

I remember that much.

I’m not sure if I was relieved or frustrated, when my eyes flew open & I snapped out of the dream. It was pouring heavily outside just as the sky was getting light; it was cold, I was shivering, and my eyes weren’t dry. It took me a couple of seconds to register what I had just dreamed about, and when I did, I let myself bawl it out for a few minutes. Death may happen frequently, but no matter how long ago it happened, the grief never washes away completely. It wasn’t that I was crying over a fresh wound, it was the feeling of missing something you had lost, and wishing that the dream had lasted longer so I could’ve savored it for at least a while more.

I didn’t think much of this dream again until a few hours later, when I’d realized the chain around my neck carrying my grandmother’s ring was snapped into two and just barely hanging off my neck. The ring wasn’t there; I flipped my pillows and blankets and everything else in sight, and finally found the ring some distance away from where I slept.

Two things I’ve been pondering about – (a) Why did I dream what I dreamed? (b) How could my chain have possible been snapped off my neck, without me being able to feel it? It wasn’t of a flimsy sort, and it wasn’t exactly old; I’d just replaced it less than two months ago.

I know the entire incident sounds ridiculous, and I could possibly be thinking about it too much, so much so that I’m blowing it out of proportion. But now I’m sitting here, typing this, with my neck feeling more naked than ever and me feeling more insecure than ever before without the ring hanging off my neck, some place I know it’d be safe – as much as I need it to be on me every second, wearing it around my finger seems like one of those careless accidents waiting to happen.

I feel like I’ve just written some sort of formal essay to myself but I just really needed to put this into words, lest I forget about it in the future.

But on the whole… I guess I just gave it too much thought.

I’m over-thinking things, right?

Right?

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