Two Nights, Two Dreams, One Presence (Part Two)
The message was there, clear… and today it reveals itself completely.
This post is also available in Spanish. Read it here
Today is Wednesday, and like every Wednesday, I sit down to write. Every post on this day is dedicated to Matías, because he came into this world on a Wednesday, and he also went to heaven on a Wednesday.
Today's post was supposed to be something else — it was going to be about a special little creature — but life, or rather the sky, asked me to change plans.
Last week I told you about two dreams I had with my dad: one where I was in a morgue that looked like a hospital, and another where my dad came to visit me. In that first dream, one of my uncles — my dad’s brother — was also present. They were together. At the time, I didn’t fully understand what those images meant; I just knew there was something deep there. They weren’t just dreams.
Last night, at 9 p.m., my cousin — my dad’s nephew — left this world. He was admitted to the hospital on a Sunday, the very same day of the first dream. He remained hospitalized for several days, and only his wife was allowed to be with him. Without knowing it, that very scene had appeared in the image I shared in last week’s post: someone lying in bed, someone standing beside them, silent, saying goodbye.
Today I understand that those two dreams were a message. That my dad and my uncle came to let me know — from the other side. Maybe to prepare my soul. Maybe to hold it gently.
All of my dad’s siblings are already in heaven. Including my cousin’s mother. And now he is with them. And with Matías. I like to imagine he was received with love, with tenderness, with those very presences that can be felt even before the news arrives.
I don’t write this just to share a personal experience. I write it because sometimes we think dreams are just dreams — and they’re not. Sometimes they’re letters from the sky. And we must learn to read them with an open heart.
Thank you for being here every Wednesday, walking with me through these memories that are part of my soul, and above all, part of Matías.
Dear cousin, may the sky receive you surrounded by love, among your own, like someone returning home after a long journey.