I haven’t had any dreams worth recording since my last post, so I thought I would share one that I had nearly four years ago that I still vividly remember. It is also the first dream that made me question how dreams really work.
So, I was a sophomore in college. I had just written a short paper on a person I admired. I picked my grandpa, who had passed away in 2003. Though he had only been apart of my life until I was ten, he had been a strong influence in my life.
That following night, I had a dream that I had gone back in time to the 1940’s. I don’t remember traveling there, I just appeared there with the knowledge that I was in the past. I was in a gravel driveway, staring up at a two-story white house. Behind it (and to the right) was an equally white garage. I waved at the young teen in front of me and I just knew he was my grandfather. I don’t remember much detail about how he looked, I just remember noticing the vague similarities between my grandfather as I knew him, and the boy in front of me. On the steps, leading to the door of the house sat a young boy around six years old. I remember his face more clearly as it was very round and cherub-like. He had big blue eyes and a head of white-blond hair. I smiled at the little boy (he was just so darn cute!)
Being the eloquent individual that I am, I introduced myself as such:
” Hi, I’m (name). You’re not going to believe this, but I’m your future granddaughter.”
He seemed completely relaxed about the whole thing, like he was used to relatives time travelers appearing in his driveway. I don’t actually recall him ever speaking, but I understood that he wanted to show me something.
He leads me further up the driveway to the garage. Parked in front of the garage was a blue truck. He takes me to the back of the pickup and points to a rusted red tool box. I knew that it wasn’t the box itself that he wanted me to see, but what was inside of it. He flipped it open and…
Next thing I remember, I’m back in the present, standing in front of my grandparent’s house. Again, I just knew what time period I was in and I knew I had tot get to the attic of their house. In the attic, I find the box that had been shown to me in the past.
I give the box to my grandma, and she is elated by its contents. Though I have never been able to recall what was inside the box, I knew it was something more sentimental value than monetary. In my dream, my grandma was happy enough to peacefully join my grandpa in the afterlife. I remember being full of emotions as I watched this all unfold.
After waking up, I called my mother and told her about my dream, because I couldn’t shake how strange it was. Talking to someone allowed me to state my doubts about the weird feeling I got about it. My mother said the way I described the house (which I had more detail on at the time) described my grandpa’s childhood home, a place that I had never seen before. I rationalized this as being a generic enough house to be a coincidence. I told her that the dream couldn’t be rooted in reality because I knew my grandfather was the youngest boy in his family, but there there had been a young boy in my dream. My mother told me that I was describing a close family friend and neighbor boy that had been around that age in the 1940’s. I still tried to shrug everything off as coincidental.
My mother, however took the contents of my dream and ran with it. She contacted both of my great aunts (the only living siblings of my grandpa) and asked them more about that time. Both my aunts explained that their eldest brother owned a blue Chevy, which sat outside the garage while he was off fighting in WW2. They also explained to my mother that my grandpa had a red toy toolbox that he carried around for years to store his possessions.
I tried to find the box in the attic since then. After four years, both my great aunts and my grandma passed away without ever seeing if the box still existed. I have yet to find it, but my mother insists that it has to be up there somewhere.
I am a woman of logic; I don’t just jump to supernatural conclusions. There were a lot of coincidences though. Perhaps it was just the over-exaggerations from my mother and aunts in hopes of it being a “sign” from my grandpa, or perhaps it is something that has supernatural origins. The only way to ever find out is if I ever actually find that box.
Dream Score: 7/10. Points for all the coincidences and possible supernatural involvement. Points docked for not actually finding the box.