A Dream Like No Other

For those of you that know me you may or may not know the following tidbit about me...I remember every dream I have and they are usually pretty weird.  

Case in point, I have a recurring dream (more like a nightmare) that plagues me every single time I see a certain mascot.  Yes, you read that correctly, a mascot.  To be more specific, my Dad's high school mascot - that subsequently was supposed to be my mascot too my senior year - the Bearcat.  It really isn't a scary animal, seriously.  It looks like a cougar with a ginormous head.  But for whatever reason, this animal plagued my dreams anytime I saw it when I was little and stuck with me, even at 34 years old.  The dream is that we are at a huge family reunion just outside of Scottsbluff at a lodge.  There is another family there, but the Cottrell/Satur/Ziegler crew had one wing of the place to ourselves.  Suddenly a ginormous bearcat appears outside and the only way it will go away is if you feed it children. My little sister and I always ran to the far end bedroom and darted under the bed with the help of our uncles, aunts, parents, and grandparents.  The other family fed the children to this thing, while my family hid us under a bed claiming there was no one under 18 there.  Yep, that is the dream. Just talking about it, I guarantee I'll have the dream tonight. (And, for the record, I own a Scottsbluff High School t-shirt with the bearcat plastered on the front.)

I also watch a lot of crime shows...Law & Order Special Victims Unit, Criminal Minds, Chicago P.D., Forensic Files...you name it, I've watched it. Those shows contribute to my dreams too, but not usually in the sense of me killing someone or being the victim - though I have had those type of dreams too.  These are more aligned with my fascination with forensic science and forensic psychology.

Rarely do I have dreams that truly make sense or fit into my life in a "normal" state. Once in a while, though, I am surprised awake by something that is "normal." This was the case one night last week, as I woke up surprised by a normalcy of the dream and tears streaming down my face.  

The weekend prior to this past one was Grandparents Day. I was the dork who sent my grandparents little kid cards on this "holiday"...even when I hit my 20s.  So I was missing all four of my grandparents something awful for the next couple of days.  Wishing I could see all of them, get a hug from them, and just hear their voices one more time.  One night, I dreamt of them.

I looked around as the walls of my house melted into the beauty of the mountains, one of my favorite places to be. As I began to take in the picturesque nature, slow stream, evergreens, and the snow-caps, I gazed upon a beautiful log house -- which "oddly enough" looked exactly like my Uncle Gary and Aunt Patricia's house in Lyons I grew up staying at.  I made my way up the beautiful red clay drive; passing the horses, patting Flicka on the nose like she loved; and running my fingers across the top of the wild grasses.  As I approached this house the I love and miss going to, I saw the horses take off up the side of the mountain.  I walked up the steps to the front door and pushed it open.  As I walked in, my eyes adjusted to see some of the people I miss most..my Grandma Sears, Granddad Sears, Grandma Cottrell, Uncle Bill, Aunt Fran, Uncle Francis, and Aunt Lynn were all sitting at the table.  They all welcomed me with the biggest hugs and many "Mandy" statements.  As I sat staring at the one chair next to me that was empty, I wondered aloud where my Grandpa Cottrell was since he has been gone the longest (27 years this November).  Just as I finished asking, my Grandma Cottrell pointed toward the hallway that lead to the garage, basement, and main floor bathroom.  Out of the bathroom walks my Grandpa Cottrell.  *Side note: My Grandpa was blind when I came into the world.  But in this dream, he had no dark glasses on, just normal glasses.*  He smiled his wide grin that I still see to this day, but was not alone.  Grandpa was carrying something, rather someone, in his arms.  As I stared at him and the someone I couldn't quite see yet, he walked up to me and gave me a huge side hug.  He said, "My little Mandy, how I have missed you.  You have made me so proud and I cannot wait to see what else you do in the years to come." At this point, I'm bawling. I would give anything to hear his voice in real life again and get a hug from him. As he released me from the best hug I could ask for, I peaked at the little someone in his arms.  It was a little boy, dressed in a Husker onesie with Jayhawk socks.  Grandpa held this little boy out for me to see more closely...dark hair, green eyes, small little dimples trying to hide in the cutest little cheeks as he smiled at me.  I looked up at my Grandpa, gazed around the table at the family members surrounding me, and began crying.  As the surroundings started to get hazy, my Grandpa told me that my little boy was ok.  The other voices chimed in that they would take good care of him while he waited for us to be with him.  The surroundings completely gone, the faces fading again...last look at this cute little boy.

I woke up in tears of happiness and comfort.  As difficult as this past month has been for us, that one glimpse that I was blessed to get will remain etched in my memory forever. It will not replace the rough days I know I will still have sometimes. It will not replace the empty arms here on Earth that will not hold him in March.  But, it will help my heart to know he is well cared for.  God entrusted him to those eight people because they mean the world to me and are with Him as well. What a blessing in the hard moments to have...