And everything I can't remember

Maybe I'm losing it. Or maybe, this was a sign that I needed this sign.

Since the 'ancient' times, people have always thought of dreams as more than just a subconscious occurrence. They have believed them to be signs of things to come, for communication sources from those who have passed on, for the idea to have faith in fate.

I've always believed to some extent, that this is true. That my dreams show me ideas I have, of places and things I want to see again, or people I want to come back into my life.

I had a dream, the night before the one year mark of Uncle Kurt's .....well, you know what I'm saying. Where we were sitting at the kitchen table, eating, and talking with the whole family, just like we always used too.  He was just there, chilling out until I suddenly blurted out "You can't be here; you're dead". He looked at me, got up, walked out, and I woke up. I wasn't sure what had happened, but for some reason it gave me a sense of relief. That even if he wasn't here, he was still looking out for me. That I knew he would  be proud of me. That it's OK that I still cry about him. That he still cares.

I've had other dreams too, but these have Grandpa mainly. They vary on the time of the year, or whats going on my life. But I can honestly say I always feel better waking up, and knowing that even if it isn't him communicating with me, my subconscious knew I needed some Grandpa time. That I wasn't crazy for still caring about him.

However, today was weird. Beyond weird actually. I was sitting on my floor, working on the stupid art project that has to include at least nine different objects, a moving part, and be visually attractive. As I'm sitting there struggling, two of my girls walk in. They ask to see what I;m working on, and as I stand up to show them...it hits me.

Literally Deja Vu. Like my brain knew I'd be here someday, and that it wanted to give me a sign. That I really am where I need to be. That even though I was pretty sure this was where I wanted to be, it was giving me the kick in the ass to really accept that I'm doing something worthwhile.

I'd had a dream about this moment. That this would happen. That I would be here, doing this.

So maybe I am crazy. And reading too far into feelings.

But I'd like to think this is a point, a resting place to accept it.