Revisiting a Childhood dream

I have a childhood dream that seems to come to me every so often now that I am older. It's never the same though, but seems to have evolved over time.  In the dream, I am in the basement of my house, standing by the room underneath the stairs where we store our luggage.  I open the door and there is a secret passage that somehow leads to the other side of the world.  This is usually ends up being my grandmothers house.  The secret passage, I cannot describe, only that it seems to have gotten bigger in girth with every dream. I also cannot say in much detail what is in the secret passages, only that some passages are safe, and other's are unsafe. I can also say, that each time I have the dream, I know my way through so surely, that I wake up half believing that I have really travelled through such a passage.

  There is a section where the floor is entirely dirt and very dark and has shelves, that have grown into ramps and are slant ways falling into the dirt.  Usually, in the dream, I hurry past this section.
Last night, I did not hurry, but lingered.  There was an old woman in rags, eating the dirt.  I debated on speaking with her, but was overcome with a sort of terror, and hurried through until I found the familar clasp to the door that lead to my grandmother's house.

Instead of finding myself in the upstairs room, as I usually do, I found myself, Ironically, coming through the furnace room in the basement of my house-- just a few yards away from where the secret passage lead.

Two years ago my grandmother moved out of her home, since it was falling apart, and had it torn down.  I suppose, I will never use my secret passage in my mind to get there anymore.

I feel strangely empty.