Two weeks before my grandma passed, I had a dream that changed everything. It didn’t just foreshadow her death; it was an offering of wisdom, of guidance and of the ancestors stepping forward to remind me of what I was about to inherit.

In the dream, my grandma and I were on a small wooden boat, floating down a stream so blue, it seemed to pulse with energy. The water was the deepest, most serene shade of blue I’ve ever seen, and the plant life that lined the outer area were lush, vibrant and so full of life. It was peaceful. Too peaceful.

Neither of us said much of anything, we just took in the scenery. We listened carefully to songs of the birds, and soft whistles formed by the wind.

As we approached the ending of the stream, a figure appeared. She was enormous—yet her energy was as graceful and calm as the water itself. She didn’t acknowledge me. In fact, she didn’t speak at all. My grandma then turned to me and said “this is it..this is my stop.” In disbelief, I tried pleading, “no! You can’t leave me alone. Please!” She looked me in my eyes and told me “you now have the wisdom to carry this on. It’s your turn now. You can do this.” There was a moment of stillness. I said nothing. The figured came closer. When she extended her large hand to my grandmother, I knew what was happening. She was here to guide my grandma to the other side. She was a protector. A bridge between worlds.

My grandmother told me it was her time to go and that I now had everything I needed to carry on the legacy. It wasn’t just about holding space for her— it was about me stepping into a new role, one that would honor our ancestors and the wisdom they passed down.

When my grandma transitioned two weeks later, I felt a deep sense of peace. The dream wasn’t just a warning but it was a blessing too. A reminder that death is not an end, but a return. Now, in the wake of her passing, I feel my ancestors guiding me in ways I didn’t understand before. Their hands are still tied in mine, helping lead the way.