I believe in spirits. Not only do I believe in them, but I believe they can commune with us in ways we don’t expect. Many people say spirits talk to us through our dreams. I never closely examined my dreams to test that theory, but I believed what they said. Recently, though, I believe this to be true, without a doubt.
Since my aunt Eva’s passing, I’ve dreamt of her numerous times. Not as much in the beginning, but when I did, I knew it was because I had her on my mind. But now, as time heals my broken heart, I see her more and more and our conversations are so memorable. Most of my dreams are forgotten as soon as I wake up.
One particular dream continues to come to mind. I was at my childhood church, Maiden’s Chapel. I walked into the sanctuary, and Eva was kneeling at the alter. As soon as I realize that she’s alive, the rest of the congregation runs to her in celebration. She had escaped death.
I run up to her and the crowd disburses so we can talk. “Eva, I thought you died.”
Her expression was peaceful. The topic of death did not make her uncomfortable, the way it made me when she discussed it with me before she died. “Not yet, but soon.”
What she said didn’t make sense. “If you’re alive, then who did they cremate?”
Eva didn’t respond, as if it didn’t matter. It didn’t to me, certainly, because she was still with me.
Neither of us said anything for a moment. Then I said, “Well, since you’re still here, I can finally ask for your thoughts on something.”
“Well,” I started, “You always talked about how you wanted your legacy to outlive you. What if we created a scholarship in your honor?”
The woman laughed her innocent, sweet laugh. She waved her hand in modesty. “No, I don’t think so.” Her words told me no, but the very large smile on her face told me yes. She used to do that all the time.
I shrugged. “Too bad, cause I’ve already started raising money. It’s happening whether you want it to or not.”
Eva sighed, that smile still painted on her face. “Alright, do it, if you insist.”
That’s all I can remember from that night. But it haunts me to this day, because I can swear that Eva was telling me that she approved of what I was doing.
I had another dream last night. I don’t remember where we were, or what we were doing, but I was with my family, and Eva was laying on a couch. She looked a lot healthier than the last time I saw her.
“How are you today, miss Eva?” I asked.
“I’m doing good,” she said with a soft smile. Usually, when I asked her that, she’d say “I’m here” or “I’m not dead, but I gotta go sometime.”
The majority of this dream evaporated as soon as it came, but that very short conversation struck a chord. Was she trying to tell me something from beyond the grave? That she no longer felt pain? I believe if anyone could reach me in my dreams, it would be Eva.
Dreams are a very funny thing. They take you on wild adventures, fulfill your fantasies, give birth to your worst fears, bring you ideas, and allow you to talk to those long gone. Most of the things that occur is total nonsense. But now, I choose to believe that my interactions with the dead are real. It would be easier if they appeared like a force ghost in Star Wars, but I’ll take what I can get.
I’m listening, miss Eva. I’ll never stop.