I was woken up by the sounds of my own sobbing.
So loud, so intense, so real.
My face was wet.
The spot on my bed where my face laid, was drenched.
So finally, the image of granddad has popped back into my subconscious mind.
I dreamt of his embrace.
and I could only tear, in happiness, in relief, im not sure.
Finally this image of him in my dream has taken over the real image I've last seen of him. I'm not gonna pretend this dream made things easier. It works both ways.
I miss his voice.
and I miss moisturizing his hands, looking at his weathered-yellowed nails and feeling his warmth.
Let this memory stay with me.
