long line of mystics

i'm in a hotel in israel, about to leave with my family.  for some reason we were back in israel this weekend even though we only returned from there about a month ago.  i walk into my parents room to see my aunt malki and pay her a shiva call, and my mother tells me that malki's father is there as well. i'm about to walk into the hallway to see him when my saba yaakov slips into the room.  i look at him wondering what he's doing in the hotel, trying to decide if this is a dream.  he says "i've been here the whole time."  i wonder if he had cancer and hid from me for these past 5 years or if i'm dreaming him again.  i hope that somehow he indeed has been dying slowly this whole time and is really standing before me this time.
he pats his stomach (still firm).  i tell him i miss him and ask him if he misses me.  he says yes.  i ask him if every time i miss him he's missing me as well, and he looks at me; i feel as small as my earliest memory of him.
i ask him if i will have a beautiful life.  he pulls me in for a hug, and places his hands on my head, and gives me a bracha.

and now i'm here, crying, and wishing my grandfather were in some hotel in israel, dying of cancer, so i can see him again.  selfish little me.  in retrospect i realize that even in my dream, i'm the only one who sees him.