Last night, my grandmother visited me in a dream. She had passed away when I was seven, and though I think of her often, I had never dreamt of her.

It was summer in Shanghai. I slept in the big bed my parents used before coming to Canada, and it was really uncomfortable, because the mattress was very hard. I couldn't really sleep. I drifted in and out of consciousness, as though expecting something.

Then, my grandmother was there, sitting at the edge of the bed. I wasn't at all scared, or even surprised. I smiled, and laid my head on her lap like I did as a child. Her wrinkled hand caressed my cheek as though to assure me she was really there.

I cannot remember her exact words, but what she said to me remained. She told me that she was proud of all that I have done, but she was worried about where my life was headed. She said that I needed direction and wisdom, and I had to go to India to hear a wise woman, who would help me.

I don't know how long I listened to her, but it was sweet, quiet times. I wished she would remain and talk more. But then, I woke up in my bed here.

I wondered if I should take her advice and try to go to India. It would be quite difficult. Yet a determination occured that I should listen to my grandmother.

After that decision, I fell into deep slumber. I dreamt again. I was leaving a luxurious ship made of wood. Something that came out of an 18th century novel perhaps. I was dressed for the century, with a frilly pink dress and a matching parasol. Taking dainty steps, I walked off the planks that connected to the dock.

It was quite busy port, with people of different races running around. Serenely, I surveyed my environment. A coach was waiting for me. It took me to a grand hotel. Tropical trees hidden behind red velvet curtains along polished wooden staircase. I walked towards the front desk, and a man who reminded me of an English butler approached me.

"Good day, Madame." He said.

"Good afternoon." I nodded.

"Your husband has ordered a room for you on the third floor facing the beach. I believe your bags are already in your room."

"Yes. Well, thank you." I was about to go up the stairs, when he tapped me lightly on the shoulder.

"What?" I asked, surprised that he had broken a rule of convention.

"Excuse me, Madame. But Mrs. B--- has already arrived. She's been waiting for you in the left lounge." He pointed to the curtains that walled off a section of the reception area.

"Oh, thank you." I hurried towards that direction.

I pulled the curtain aside and let my eyes adjust to the dark room. It smelled strange, of some sort of incence combined with exotic fruits. I saw a plumb woman, dressed very well, if somewhat intimidating. She was drinking coffee and looked entirely in her element.

Ahhh, Mrs. B---- !(she looked like the nouveau riche woman from Titanic)

I approached her, and she saw me before I got close enough to say hello. She smiled and reached out her hands.

"Jessica, there you are. I have been expecting you for some time." She said.

"Mrs. B----, I hope I haven't kept you waiting."

"Well, sit, sit, my dear. You have lost some of your coloring. Why don't you eat more and perhaps you will look more healthy?" She patted my cheeks.

For the next hour or so, she told me that I was wasting my life and my talent. I was letting my husband run my life and destroy any chance of discovering my own person. She encouraged me to be more bold, and head out into the business world. She thought I was not only intelligent but also exceedly keen business-wise.

"My dear, why don't you go upstairs and think about what I have said?" She pushed me towards the opening of the lounge, and I didn't resist. Somewhere between the lounge and the stairs, I woke up.

I wondered if my dream meant that I have already done what my grandmother wanted of me. After all I had gone to India and spoke with a very wise woman. It was such a strange night, yet it did give my aimless existance some direction.