The Light

The Light at the End of the Tunnel

My great grandmother had lived with us for many years in our duplex in a quiet neighborhood in a quiet town. There were two bedrooms in her half of the house so when my grandfather wasn't visiting I slept there. I don't remember the year but the Harry Potter books were popular and there was a big debate about those fantasy books and religion. Perhaps that's what sparked my odd dream that sometimes I question if it was even a dream at all.

I was asleep in my bed, my room across the hall from my grandmother's. All off a sudden it's like I was in a heavy fog. I look up and feel a warmth fill my body. I smiled and watched the fog take shape into large clouds. I stood motionless as angels appeared on either side as a light got bigger and bigger. I knew what was going on. I was dying. I wasn't worried though, I was at a peace that you can't experience in life. I was happy and didn't want it to end. What could be better then being content and relaxed for the rest of forever?
Just as quickly as it was there it was gone. A new light entered my eyes. The light of day. I woke up in my bed, across the hall from my grandmother's room and I was sad. I had survived.

As the years went on I think about this dream often. Usually when people die is when it makes an appearance in my mind. I'm sad for their families for never being able to see them again when they are clearly hurting, but I am happy for the dead. They know a peace I had once felt and even though people have told me 'It was a just a dream' I'm not so sure.