The night after my great aunt Jenny’s death,

I dreamt of my grandmother’s house

and signs that Aunt Jenny was there

including gifts she had brought to my grandmother,

a sign that the two sisters were reunited.

My grandfather picked up my check at a restaurant

and stayed to visit.

He and my friends encouraged me to tell them an old folktale.

My grandfather’s best friend Frankie

appeared to me the night after his funeral.

He drove a bus on which I was the only passenger,

letting me off at my destination,

a final father-like kindness.

I got to tell him how much I loved him.

My grandmother was seated next to me

in a theater.

I was in full-on girl mode.

I realized upon waking up

how her silence

was a kind of simple acceptance.

My dress was not a cause for conflict or concern.

All these ethereal gifts.

Hints and echoes of love.

Whispers of affection

that lives on.