After my grandpa died, there were many years that I dreamed about him. In fact, I wrote about it here:
In the dreams that I would have, he was always smiling. Never spoke though. And in my dream, I would always either think to myself, or say out loud, “Aren’t you supposed to be dead?” And he would always just smile in response. Then he’d go about doing whatever we were doing in the dream.
I have always believed that our loved ones communicate with us in our dreams. Over the years, I have dreamed a few times about other family members that have passed. And it was always the same dream. They’re smiling super big and they seem just radiantly happy even though we both know they’re supposed to be dead. That said to me that wherever they were in the afterlife, they were happy. I strongly feel that’s what their message has always been to me.
But what has troubled me all these years is that I have never dreamt about Uncle Ricky. In 2001, Uncle Ricky committed suicide. I wrote about him in this post:
The fact that he was never in my dreams bothered me because it meant to me that his afterlife was not a happy one. I don’t know that I read it somewhere or heard it in church or what, but I felt that people believed people who committed suicide went to hell. I think that was a belief that had been shared with me at some point in my life. But with Uncle Ricky, I vehemently refused to believe that that’s where he was. My favorite uncle. The one who always had the biggest smile on his face. The one who was so dedicated to keeping our family in touch by hosting family picnics and staying in touch with all of us. He had his demons and ultimately, they won. But he didn’t deserve to suffer for eternity because of them. Certainly he suffered enough in this life which is what led him to take his own life.
But now I know that’s not true. Because last night, I finally dreamed about him. I don’t remember what was happening in the dream. Maybe we were in somebody’s house? Or were we visiting some school or building or something? I don’t recall. But we were walking together through a building and I think we were on our way to some event.
When he first appeared, he was just standing there. He was a vibrant, healthy looking figure. And he was smiling. The big, ear-to-ear, Uncle Ricky smile that I remembered. In fact, he almost didn’t even look like the Uncle Ricky I remembered. So healthy and just…good, was his appearance that he seemed to resemble a younger version of himself that I had only seen in pictures from my mom’s collection. Mainly because it looked like he had a little more hair around the sides than I remember.
I had that familiar confused recognition. I don’t think I said it out loud in this dream, but in my head I thought, “Aren’t you supposed to be dead?” And in response, he continued to smile. Then the dream continued, with us walking together towards whatever event or place we were headed to. And that was it.
I woke up with such a relieved feeling. Maybe my Catholic faith is right, and there is a purgatory where souls go when they die. The souls who aren’t deserving of hell, but aren’t quite ready for heaven yet. A place of purification and a place to get ready.
Maybe that’s where Uncle Ricky went. And now, after 25 years, he was ready for heaven. Maybe he wanted to let me know to stop worrying. He’s where he’s supposed to be now. He’s finally happy.
“Little” Joe, it’s your turn now.
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