I had the creepiest dream last night. It's one I've had before, but not recently.

It involved my grandmother dying. Which isn't all that farfetched, she's 92 years old, after all.

Then, in true "i should've been born before 1900 fashion", I dreamed that we stuck the corpse, in its coffin, in the living room of the house she hasn't owned since I was 17 years old to have a sort of a wake.

Eerie enough, eh?

But my mom, for some reason, couldn't get over the fact that her mom was dead. So she opened the coffin, saw grandma lying there, and burst into tears and had to leave the room. She ran out into the kitchen.

At which point Grandma woke up.

Yes, she woke up, but she was nothing more than a husk of her former self - almost like she'd had several strokes or something, and cognitive functions were pretty much gone.

And I think that upset me more than the idea of her just dying.

I woke myself up (yup, by this point I'd realized it was my recurring dream) at 5:30 and cried myself back to sleep until it was time to face the day.

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