Saturday, February 28, 2009

Dreams



JoAnn, 1961




Queen B was blogging about her dreams and asked what folks dreamt about. While I don't feel comfortable commenting on her page, as I am just one of her blog stalkers and by-the-by, she is just great, I thought I would do a little dream sequence here.

I rarely remember my dreams and usually go with the "I don't dream" statement. But in the last few months I have had the same dream a few times over. It is one of those dreams that is so real that you wake up expecting the dream to continue on and be true, but it can't, it never could be.

I dream that I bump into my Mom outside. She is young and beautiful and not plagued with cancer and I am SO happy to see her. Frantically happy.

The conversations are always the same:

Mrs.O: Mom, there you are, you look great, where have you been? I've missed you, we gotta go now, everyone wants to see you. Come on.
Mom: I'm fine, I've just been over here.
Mrs. O: Ok (whatever, come on) Let's go, we gotta go now Mom.
Mom: I can't stay and I have to go now.

Then I wake up with a start and of course, she isn't here. There isn't anything much worse than losing your mother, but I think that those microseconds that pass right before I am fully awake and I think she is actually still with us, well those seconds of hope followed by despair rank right up there with some of the worst things I have ever had to deal with in this life.

Well that was down right depressing and I'm sorry, but then the glass here is always half-full. But no matter what anyone else thinks or says on this subject, I believe that it is her little way of letting me know that she is doing just fine on the other side. On this side though....there are times that....I miss her so much it hurts to breathe. If you can't tell - this is one of those times.

It is just the littlest of things that sets this off for me. Today we laid a new flower box in the front yard with a nice little retention wall. Any time I work in the yard I think of her more so than I usually do. After she died I couldn't bring myself to work in the garden. The ponds and fountains were ignored, I didn't weed or water a thing. Every time I walked in the backyard I could see her sitting in the swing or I would see some garden knick-knack she bought and it just broke my heart. It took me almost a year to get back to tending the garden and I only did so because I noticed a pink bromeliad she bought me (which never,ever bloomed in all the years I had it) was blooming, and it was Mother's Day. I figured it was her was of pushing me to go on with life.

So onward I go...but damn I miss her.
~ame

4 comments:

Awww! I am sure I will feel the same when you pass. :) Your my mom and not just my mom, but "the" mom. :) I love you!

Nothing can replace your mother, but she will always live on through us in our mrmory.

Now I see where Simba learned to spell....

har har har ... I knew I should have spelled checked it first (the monk lives on)... and it isn't a matter of spelling ... just more of my great two finger typing

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