The night before I returned home to Colorado, I dreamt about my grandpa. It took place in the middle of Zumbro Falls, a small town not far from the farm. In the dream, I was walking down the middle of the empty main road, past quiet country shops and trading posts. It was cloudy and raining. I sloshed through puddles on the road, and I could hear distant thunder. I headed into the mechanic's shop sort of in the center of town, where the only vehicle in town (a red pickup truck) was parked. Once inside, I saw my grandpa as I remembered him, sitting on a chair in the lobby with his head buried in a magazine. I sat in the plastic chair next to him as he lowered his magazine and smiled at me. 

"Well, look who the cat dragged in." my grandpa mumbled as he shakily placed his closed magazine on the cracked concrete floor. 

"Y'know, I'm very proud of you." my grandpa quietly said in his gruff voice, changing his tone into a more serious one, while his blue-grey eyes twinkled behind his thick glasses. 

I silently nodded, and he took my hands in his. In life, my grandpa Bob always held my hands in his to warm them up, as my hands were always very cold. 

"You do well out there, alright?" My grandpa continued, "You know where I am, and I love you."

He leaned over and embraced me in a hug. It felt so vividly real. I could feel the warmth of my grandpa's body, the soft fabric of his crimson flannel shirt, the strength of his arms around me, his chest and shoulders rise and fall as he breathed. 

"I love you so much, Papa." I sniffled as I began to cry. 

Finally, my grandpa pulled back saying, "I've gotta go. I am expected somewhere else."

He stood up to his full height quickly and without assistance. I just sat in my chair, stunned. There was a baseball cap and a jacket hanging on an old wooden coat hanger by the door to the outside. My grandpa took his time putting on his navy blue windbreaker without help, and tipped his hat to me as he pushed open the door and headed outside. I didn't stand up until the solid wooden door closed I was so shocked. But, I soon got to my senses and rushed after my grandpa. 

As I was heading for the door, I saw my grandpa's back from a grimy adjacent window. His hair was a sandy brown color, and he didn't seem to have any trouble walking off the curb to get to his truck. But, when I burst outside and rounded the corner, my grandpa and his red pickup truck were gone.

I woke up in tears, just wishing I could've seen his younger face in my dream. But, I was also comforted by it. Perhaps, my grandpa Bob really was alive and well in the spiritual realm. Maybe we would be reunited someday. Maybe I should give Christianity another try. After all, if my grandpa could remain a Christian despite all he went through, perhaps I could too.