Editor’s note. This is a three part series, you can find the beginning of the story here. Tomorrow we will conclude this lovely tale.
The night after Mom passed, I had a dreamless sleep, so exhausted from the death vigil and handling everyone else’s grief.
The next night, I had a responsibility dream. We were having a big party…everyone from our past was there… neighbors, Girl Scouts, church people, Copy-It customers, Full Circle Family Health patients, people from every stage of our life. I was looking for plastic utensils to go with the paper plates and saw Mom.
She was dressed in a red suit dress, crumbled at the foot of the stairs. Sick, tiny. I was upset. I should have never let her go. I scooped her up and carried her in to her room. I woke up saddened that I still held guilt about not being able to save her, sad that I let her go and she got worse. And knowing there was nothing more I could do and that I couldn’t hold her to me.
When I finally returned home from Houston, first night was dreamless, but the second, right before arising after waking up at the witching hour, I had a dream. Again we were having a pig party. Strange house as always, this one set up for people to enter through the kitchen and then go down an open staircase into a courtyard outside living area. Very Italian living area with arched open windows looking over the courtyard.
A huge Amazon sized lady came in, and asked very rudely, “What am I doing here?”
I replied, “Do you know my father?”
“Yes!” She was so rude.
“Well, this is his memorial service.” That’s when I knew the huge gathering of family and friends was for Dad not Mom.
She pushed roughly past me. “Where is he?”
I tried to stop her. Her energy was so negative. “He isn’t here. Just those of us who loved him gathering for food, and drink and stories. Clearly you have nothing good to share.” But she hurried down the steps, so wide that I couldn’t pass her. I was tempted to fly through the open courtyard windows down to my sisters and warn them, but I heard their warning prior to the event not to do anything strange like flying or disappearing. So I called Mom.
And she came through me. Not to me. Through me, like I called her out of a genie bottle which was my own body. She said Go get STEVE!
So I ran out and found Steve fixing some big red armed metal contraption. I told him Mom said that he has to come take of the big bad lady. He sighed, “She told me to fix this thing. I have to fix everything. She’s still bossing me around.”
When Steve woke up, he told me Mom came to him in his dream. She was walking down the hall, calling Stevie! And he said, Mom, you’re dead now. You can’t boss me around. And she wagged her finger at him and replied, you think I can’t?
Interesting we dream in tandem.
Part three continues tomorrow.