Let me give you some background before I tell you what I dreamt. Last year, on March 24, I lost my grandfather. He was my dad and helped to raise me. He was one of the most caring, loving person I've ever met. He was always willing to do things for other people - fix their cars, washing machines, electrical work. He worked at a paper mill and was a very hardworking guy and I love and miss him VERY much. When I got the call that he was dying, I drove as fast as I could to Augusta. I was there with him when he took his last breath, and let me tell you, that is NOT something that leaves your mind very easily. It was so rough. I'm still having problems dealing with it because he was such an important part of my life.
Now for the dream:
I was in the hospital room with him, holding his hand. He was breathing through his mouth and his breathing was very labored. I knew that he was going to go at any minute but I just couldn't bring myself to come to terms with it. He looked at me and rasped that he loved us all (as the entire family was in there) and then he drew his last breath. It was the death rattle. He was gone. I was so upset and crying so hard. He was basically my dad. He bought me my first car, taught me how to drive a stick, bought me clothes, let me live with him when I had no where else to go, took me on trips, and made prom special for me. He was such a great guy.
Then, things changed. His glossy eyes flew open and he moaned. My grandmother was excited because she thought he was alive. She was trying to hug him but I held her back. He ripped out his IV's and started heading towards us trying to grab us. My grandfather was a zombie. I acted quickly and grabbed the IV pole. To my family's horror, I bashed his head in with the metal IV pole. My family was cussing at me and trying to fight me but I saved their lives. That was horrible. It was the most horrible thing I've had to do.
No comments:
Post a Comment