From Journal Entry 7/23/2026
I had a dream about my grandmother, who has passed away, and my father. The dream took me back to my childhood home and the property where I grew up. My father was there, along with my uncle and other family members. Then, my father was leaving. There was something about that scene that felt deeply familiar.
My father left when I was nine years old and I did not see him for two years. His leaving wounded me deeply as a child. It was an experience that became a part of my emotional history, something that stayed with me long after I grew up.
Now, many years later, my father is leaving again. He and his wife have decided to sell their house and belongings and move to Tennessee to be closer to her family. This decision has brought up many thoughts and emotions for me, especially because it echoes something from my childhood that I have never forgotten.
At the same time, I understand that my father is going to make his own decisions. Spiritually, I have learned that we cannot control the paths other people choose to walk. Sometimes, all we can do is observe, love where we can, express our concerns when necessary, and then allow people to make their own choices.
In my dream, my father was leaving. And my grandmother was standing there. She did not say anything. She simply stood there, watching. She seemed almost like a guardian…someone observing everything, protecting, watching over the people and the property. There was no visible anger or sadness on her face. She was just present.
When I saw her, I ran to her and hugged her. I told her that she looked beautiful. And she smiled. That moment touched me deeply.
My grandmother was a strong woman of faith. She went to church regularly and had a strong presence within her community. I remember that his leaving affected her too. He was her son, and I know it caused her pain. So, in a way, my grandmother was connected to that original wound. She was there in the history of my father leaving. And now, in my dream, she was there again as he left. But this time, she was not crying. She was not trying to stop him. She was not angry. She was simply standing there. Watching.
And when I saw her, I did not talk to her about the pain of the past. I did not ask her why my father left. I did not ask her to explain anything. I simply hugged her and told her she looked beautiful. She smiled. I believe there is something significant about that. Perhaps, in my own subconscious, or perhaps spiritually, depending on how one interprets dreams…my grandmother no longer represents only the pain of my father's leaving. She represents herself. The strong woman I loved. The woman of faith. The woman who may have been watching over me. The woman who was present during painful moments in my family history, but who now appeared peaceful.
Her silence in the dream felt meaningful. Sometimes, there is nothing left to explain. Sometimes, the presence of someone is enough.
The Meaning of the Number 11
There was another detail in the dream that stood out to me. After the scene with my father and grandmother, the dream shifted. I was at work, trying to clock in. I was having trouble getting into the system, but eventually, I was able to clock in and adjust the time to 11 a.m.
The number 11 immediately made me curious. Spiritually, 11 is often associated with intuition, spiritual awareness, illumination, and transition. It is sometimes considered a master number in numerology. For me, the number 11 seemed especially meaningful because the dream itself appeared to be standing between two different points in my life.
On one side was my childhood,,,the property where I grew up, the memory of my father leaving, and the deep wound that experience created. On the other side was my present life, represented by my job and my ability to successfully clock in. The number 11 can be visualized as two pillars standing side by side. Two separate lines. Two points in time. Two people.
In the context of my dream, I felt that the number could symbolize the connection between my past and my present. It reminded me that the little girl I was and the woman I am now are both part of my story, but I am no longer living from the same place of helplessness I experienced as a child. The number 11 also made me think about my father and me. We are connected by family, history, and love, but we are still two separate people with our own paths. Perhaps the two ones standing beside each other represent that kind of connection…being close, yet still remaining separate individuals.
The number 11 may also represent a doorway or threshold. In the dream, I was trying to enter my workday. I had trouble at first, but eventually, I was able to clock in. I adjusted the time, and I moved forward. That felt symbolic of entering a new chapter. My father is moving into a new chapter of his life, and I am also having to adjust emotionally to a new reality. The past and the present are now connected in a way I cannot ignore. But I do not have to remain trapped in the past. Perhaps the number 11 was a reminder that I am standing at the threshold between what happened then and what is happening now.
The dream then shifted again. There was a refrigerator. Inside were cheesecakes. There was one cheesecake that was frozen. There was another cheesecake that was not frozen. There were slices in both of them. I decided I wanted a piece of cheesecake, and I reached into the one that was not frozen. I chose the cheesecake that was ready.
That detail stayed with me. Perhaps the frozen cheesecake represents things that have become frozen in time. The pain of childhood. The questions that can never be completely answered. The things that happened in the past and cannot be changed. Some parts of our lives remain frozen in time. We may remember them clearly, but we cannot go back and thaw them out and make them different.
But there was another cheesecake that was not frozen. It was available. It was ready. And I chose that one. To me, this felt like a beautiful symbol of the present moment. There are things from my past that I cannot change. There are choices my father is making now that I cannot control. But there is still sweetness available to me. There is still life in front of me. There are still things I can enjoy. There is still love. There is still the present moment. And perhaps that is the deeper message of this dream.
My father leaving awakened the memory of the little girl who was left behind. But my grandmother was there. Maybe the dream was showing me that I can remember the pain without being trapped inside it. Maybe it was reminding me that I am not the same person I was when my father left the first time. I am older now. I have lived through many things. I have experienced loss, heartbreak, change, and transformation. I have learned that sometimes love means accepting that people will make choices we do not understand.
Maybe the message of my dream was this: The departure of someone who once left me wounded may awaken the past, but I am no longer the abandoned child standing alone. I am watched over. I am capable of moving forward. And there is still sweetness waiting for me in the life I have now.