Flowers in her hair

There’s a lot of ways people deal with deaths, I for one apparently deal with it partially through my dreams. My great grandmother was a mysterious lady. We called her nana nana. She stayed in a trailer in the back of my tia’s house to keep her independence, but have someone near at hand if she needed it. It had lots of religious trinkets, the Virgin of Guadalupe, a Crucifix, and various other Saints. Part of her mystery was the way she looked she had lots of wrinkles that make her very wise looking, she had flowery shirts and long skirts, she had her curly hair done pulled back in a handkerchief.
When I was little I visited her with my family often, but she lived a long life passing away at 98. I was young enough at the time not quite able to grasp the concept of death. But this incident certainly made me think of it. I realized that life was very precious and that there was inevitably an end.
My dream was of my mom driving her, at the time purple f., truck, my grandmother in the front passenger and me and my nana nana in the back seat. For whatever reason there was a bunch of beach balls in this neighborhood street, my mom swerved trying to avoid them. She turned too fast and drove into someone’s back yard crashing into a pool. This pool though was a lot deeper than a normal pool. The truck obviously fit and was sinking way down. The entire truck was submerged. I watched my mom and grandmother get out of the front. Then me and my great grandma finally got out once I struggled with my seatbelt. As we were swimming out I could see the light coming through the surface of the water and I started to swim towards the light. Until my nana nana grabbed my arm, for whatever reason she wasn’t going to make it to the surface. Behind her I could see my mom’s purple truck sinking towards the black depth of water.
I looked at my forearm where she was holding me, “Nana nana, you have to let go.” “Come with me mija,” she says, “come with me.” “I can’t, I have to go back to the surface. You stay here and rest now.” Her grip was still tight and I gently placed my hand on hers to gently take it off. She obliged and sunk down into the deep water. I swam to the surface and started to cry. Then I woke up crying, I had the lingering feeling of her touch on my arm.
My nana nana was a mysterious person; I’ll always remember her wise eyes and the flowers she wore in her hair.