Living Through The Dead

“Her laughed always consumed the space she was in,” she uttered these words and held onto her mother’s hand tighter and tighter with each word that escaped her lips. 

This was the girl’s first experience with death. She didn’t know what to say. She thought she should be sadder. She had heard her mother’s sobs for the last five nights but was jealous because her tears don't flow in the same way. She hadn’t cried since her grandmother died. 

“People don’t leave when they die. Yes, they are gone but they don’t leave. I will live on in your mother. I will live on in you. You haven’t been on this earth for the entirety of my life, and I won’t be on this earth for the entirety of yours. We move throughout and within each other regardless of if our feet touch the soil.” Her grandmother uttered these words five years before her body died. The conversation had begun when the girl came to her grandmother with questions about death. The girl had been having dreams about death. 

“I don’t die in the dreams” she explained. “I feel death, like it’s within me and all around me.” 

“Don’t be frightened” her grandmother replied. “Death isn’t anything to be afraid of.” 

“I’m not afraid!” the girl explained. “Why would I be afraid?”

Each night since the day her grandmother died, the girl dreamt of her grandmother. This night her dreams centered around a statement her grandmother made to her before she passed. It was day two of their family reunion and her grandmother pulled her close and stated, “If we don’t maintain our history, then why are we living? What are we living for? Our history is as much a part of us as our present is.” At the moment, this statement seemed random, but the dream reassured the girl that her grandmother’s statement wasn’t random at all. 

The moment her eyes shut, her mind was taken to the shore of a vast body of water. The bright blue sky was absent of a sun and scattered about with muted gray clouds. The lack of sun didn’t prevent the sky from being illuminated. The girl’s feet sunk into the sand as she slowly walked toward the water. This dream was different from the ones she had experienced the previous five nights. Those had been shrouded in darkness. There was no darkness in this dream. She was excited but also confused. Her grandmother had always told her that her dreams meant things. 

“Listen to your dreams, they will speak louder and with more truth than anyone on this earth.” The girl listened as her feet met the water. 

Her eyes remained focused on the waves created by her steps. With every step she took, deeper into the water, she felt a different presence appear behind her. “1, 2, 3, 4, 5…” She counted in her head and on the six step, as her calves sunk into the water, she heard a loud bell. She turned toward the sound and was shocked to see six objects behind her. She took her feet out of the water and walked toward the objects that lay on the sand. Five of the objects were unfamiliar. There was a pair of glasses, a tattered blanket, a gold necklace, a pair of black and an old book. The six object was familiar, it was her grandmother’s wedding ring. The girl had seen the ring everyday of the twelve years of her life. She could recognize the ring from miles away. Her grandmother told stories of how the ring had been passed down from generation to generation. Her grandmother always referenced the ring as “our ring”. Her grandmother was buried with this ring and the girl though the  ring died with her. The girl reached out to touch the ring but as her arm stretched so did the space between her fingers and the ring. The space was infinite. The girl retracted her arm but her eyes remained locked on the ring and her eyes listened intently. This dream wasn’t like the ones she had the previous nights. Not only was it not dark but she wasn’t alone. She could feel the presence of people, her people. The whispers began when the girl closed her eyes. The water was still and the whispers spoke of a history she had never known. Her grandmother loved to tell stories. Stories of people she know, stories of people she wish she knew. She never admitted it but everyone knew that the stories were embellished. The girl knew the stories the whispers told were true. Though she knows none of the people who spoke, she felt connected to their stories, she felt connected to them. They not only spoke to her but they spoke through her. Their whispers were endlessly intertwined with her being. She opened her eyes when she heard her grandmother’s voice. 

“Live through me, live for us.” 

This was the last time the girl would hear her grandmother’s voice. The girl woke up from the dream in laughter.