Letter 21: I dreamt of you. . Dear Mok, . In the winter of 2016, I had repeated dreams with you in them. In these dreams, you never do anything. You would just sit on a chair or a ledge, quiet and unmoving. The light would always come from behind you so that your face would be in the shadow, but I always got a sense that you were deeply sad; maybe it’s the droop of your shoulders and slightly down-turned angle of her face. In one dream I was busy packing because I had to leave—I don’t know where to or what for or with whom—and I could feel your sadness weighing me down as if trying to make me stay. I’m not religious when it comes to dreams; they’re usually a tangled yarn ball of my conscious and subconscious vying for my attention. But this was you, visiting me again and again. So I spoke to an ustaz about it. He was similarly agnostic about interpreting dreams (although I suspect he was just being cautious) but he told me it could be that her soul is longing for my prayers. And that there is a hadith about a day of the week when all the deeds of a deceased’s descendants are presented to them. . Maybe that’s where your sadness was coming from—from seeing how this one granddaughter of yours is going astray. . So I started praying for you again—instead of simply thinking about you and reminiscing about the days when you were around. I sat cross-legged on my sejadah a little longer, grasp my prayer beads a little closer to my chest and whispered “Subhanallah wa alhamdulillah wa laa ilaha illallah” more fervently each time. . And then you left my dreams. . #hersarong #suratsarong #dreams #grandmother #memories #dreaminterpretation #legacy #prayers https://www.instagram.com/p/BsqGRr_hEIZ/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=p6e6cf0rdf7c