Sleep Talk

For the last two nights I've dreamed that my 93 year old aunt who died in early December has come back to life.  This reappearance hasn't been grisly or inappropriate, thus sparing me a nightmare complete with zombies and hands reaching up out of graves.  She has just appeared naturally--smiling and talking rationally from her rocking chair.  Last night we did, however, take a ride in a car driven by a caseworker of some sort at breakneck white knuckle speed down a treacherous mountain road to a nursing home.  Aunt Norma took the ride calmly and in stride.  I, not so.
I am not surprised to begin having dreams about my aunt.  Part of the reason my blog went AWOL a few months ago is because I spent the larger part of November easing my aunt through death and then December picking up some of the pieces resulting from her departure.  It all began with a routine visit to her doctor, subsequent multiple hospital and nursing facility stays, and then culminated in a week of hospice care in her own home.  This was my first experience of this sort--both of my parents just dropped dead with no forewarning and little time to ease them into anything.  That is a blessing, I guess.  Some might disagree.  But in the case of my aunt, the situation demanded me to be brave beyond my experience.  Dramatic decisions came at me like shrapnel. I was administering some pretty hefty drugs, fielding correspondence with all the family all over the world, sleeping with one eye open, and trying to soldier through each day. I wasn't afforded the luxury of much processing, so that my sub-conscious is doing that now makes sense. 
We'll see where this all takes us...