Nana

Last night was the first time I dreamt of my Nana since she passed away nine years ago. It was really nice to see her again. I never made it to her funeral, which I still feel bad about to this day, but I know she wouldn't have wanted me to feel that way... but I still do. I was away in Italy studying abroad for a year when she died, she made it to the big 80. My family members still tell me that she would have wanted me to stay in Italy, parts of me wonder if me leaving for Italy had something to do with her leaving us. Her husband, my grandfather, whom I never met because he died before I was born, was first generation Italian-American. His parents came to America from northern Italy, and we knew of some distant relatives who still lived there. So, me being in Italy when Nana passed had some sort of spiritual significance and connection... but I still can't help to feel bad about not flying back to be at her funeral.

But finally, I have reconnected with Nana once again in my dream last night. I have been waiting for this moment, and it felt like such a relief.

I was standing outside her house on Monroe St. with my dad. It was a warm, sunny day. I saw her waving through the porch window, and then she came to the front door. I walked up the stairs to the front porch and gave her a great big hug. She was wearing her usual warm-weather attire: loose-fitted, knee-length, navy blue short "slacks," and a peach-colored sleeveless top, with outdoor navy blue slippers. Her hair was always short and permed and ginger-colored. I'm not sure if ginger was her natural hair color, or if she dyed it; after all, she was of Irish "decent," as she would always put it. I recently gave her a new nickname, I've been calling her my little "mashed potato" Naner-- because she was a bit short and plump, and I always loved her mashed potatoes, and sometimes she would add an "er" to words and names. I could only guess this was part of her New York/Manhattan accent, because that's where she grew up. Or perhaps it was from a distant Irish accent.... I hope you don't mind, Nana, living with dad just makes me miss you and think of you a lot.

However, in this dream she seemed a little nervous after I hugged her, looking out to the street to see what my dad was doing so she could get a hug from him too. But he seemed far too preoccupied with something I can't quite remember what. And that's all I remember. Of course this dream has great significance. I told my dad today. I'm sure he thought it had great significance as well. Perhaps I'll ask for his interpretation, but I bet it would be the same as mine.