2/12/2005 08:29:00 AM|||Amy|||I just had a dream about my mother, so as soon as I woke up I felt that it was really important to write it down and what better place than one's online journal? Just kidding. This is really personal, and maybe even a little scary - so be warned.

In my dream I woke up in the middle of the night and I heard a big, loud male voice coming from the Den. I went out to see what was going on, and there was my father with this guy that my aunt once married briefly, Eddie. The way I remember Eddie is that he was quiet and kind of non-descript (even though my aunt's marriage to him didn't last long because he turned out to be crazy). So, he had gone out and gotten really drunk, and having heard about my mother - he decided to come over to our house. There he was in the den with my father talking really loudly, and he looked like he was in his early sixties. In my dream I did the math and realized that he must have been a lot older than I thought he was when he was with my aunt.

Monkey had woken up too and was playing in the den when I arrived. On one hand I was trying to get her and my father back to bed, and on the other I wanted to know why Eddie was there and when would he leave. I marshalled the forces so to speak, and started herding my loved ones back to bed and then I realized what was going on.

Eddie believed that my mother was still alive, and very sick. He could see her laying in her bed, and he was employing every bit of folk wisdom he come up with to make her better and save her life. But, because he believed that she was there, we could see her too.

The dream shifted then. I was on the bed laying next to my mother. My father was walking around the room. My sister was at the foot of the bed, but she was fast asleep. My brother was sitting in the chair by the desk. Eddie was still in the den playing with the kids (even in my dream, I knew this was a bad idea but I really needed to talk to my mother) and his sisters were coming over bringing all kinds of remedies to help Mom.

My mother was sleeping hard. She wasn't wearing the breathing mask she had to wear at home, but it was draped over her chest in case she felt that she needed to put it on. She was wearing a long, yellow shirt she often wore to bed. We were able to wake her up whenever we needed to talk to her, but we really only had a few seconds each time before she fell asleep again.

So, I was laying next to her, and I asked her about the fire. I asked her why she didn't get upset. Again, in my dream I was having the conscious realization that the answer to this question wasn't all that important to me anymore, but I really needed to ask it. She said first that I already felt guilty enough, and then she fell asleep. I woke her up again after a few minutes, and asked her to tell me more. She said that she needed my help then, and didn't want to make me feel worse about what had happened.

When she said that, I thought "oh, that's Mom alright" - it wasn't that she was concerned about me, she was concerned about what I could do for her. But, as I write this, I think that she was worried with as emotional as I was at the tender age of 13, that I would fold. My father and brother could have easily died in that fire, and it was obvious to me then - as it was to everybody else. My brother was in the hospital for a week after the fire.

Then, I asked her if she loved me, and she said yes. I asked her to say it to me, and she did. I told her how much I loved her, and I told her that if she wanted to go, she could. This wasn't where she was supposed to be anymore, and all she had to do was get up and go. When I said that, she was no longer sleepy and she threw the covers off and stood up. My father, brother and I walked with her towards the bedroom door. Her steps were faltering, but they were purposeful. She walked the same way she did about the time that Monkey was born. At that time, she could still walk on her own power without a lot of help from canes or walkers. I remember that the night before Monkey was born, she even vaccuumed the room I would be sleeping in when I brought the baby home from the hospital. She wasn't able to walk in measured strides, but she could walk slowly. That was when her hip replacement was just starting to disintegrate and was causing her more than a little pain.

As she walked around the bed, she went towards my father's dresser on the side of the room near the door. There on the floor was a mirror, and she wanted to see how she looked before she ventured out of the room. She looked the way she did when she was at home. No make-up, hair messed up, just wearing that long, yellow shirt with no pants. When she looked down into the mirror, I could see that she was unhappy so I described to her how she really looks now without telling her explicitly why, where or how. I told her that her make-up and hair are done, and she looks beautiful. She's wearing that beautiful blue dress with the white pinstripes. I didn't tell her that she looks just like her mother. She looked at me, and the expression on her face was kind of doubtful but I got the impression that she was okay with what I said and she understood what I meant. It was at this point that we woke up my sister so that she could say good-bye.

My sister got up, and hugged her. Then, my father hugged her. And then, I woke up. If I were able to consciously direct the dream, the next thing would have been that she would have walked through the den to the front door, saying goodbye to Eddie and his sisters as she went but that she would have appeared that their presence there wasn't something she really noticed. Her objective would have been to get to the door, and then I don't know what would have happened. I think I would have woken up at this point. As soon as she walked out the door, she would have been gone forever and maybe that is what I have to come to grips with now. I want to say goodbye to her, but I can't. I dream about her - not every night, but in my dreams I can hear her voice and sometimes I can talk to her though not as much as I did in this dream tonight.

A few nights ago I had a dream that I was on a ferry with John that turned over in shallow water. The dream really disturbed me until I told a friend about it, and the meaning was obvious. In the dream we were on a level of the ferry that was below deck. John and I were at the very opposite end from the entrance, and the ferry was packed with people. As soon as it turned over, it began filling with water. I knew that we were at the shore, but it didn't make much difference as the thing was filling with water and we couldn't get out. So, John just gave up and resigned himself to death - along with most of the people on the ferry. So, I tried to slog along the length of the ferry towards the exit all the while planning on how I was going to get to the deck and try to swim through the rails and towards daylight before I ran out of breath. The whole time I was using a mental image of the kids, and the fear of what would happen to them if we both died, as motivation to not give up. I woke up just as I arrived at the exit.

I've been having these kinds of dreams almost every night. I've remembered very few - in fact, just these two. A woman at work told me yesterday that I look very relaxed and happy. She says that my face has completely changed. And maybe that's true. But, I'm still haunted by grief for Mom, and by not knowing when John is going to move on to the next phase of his life.

On a side note, lately I've been reading The Golden Compass by Phillip Pullman. This is an incredible book, and just now having read through a very small bit of Phillip Pullman's website, he is an extraordinary man.|||110822229612112236|||A Dream About My Mother2/12/2005 03:42:20 PM|||Judy The Great|||*sigh* I remember this "after mom's death" time well. Grief has a weird way of consumeing us.

Remember your dreams are all about you and your thoughts and feelings. I remember dreaming of talking to my mother after her death. I really didn't get a chance to tell my mother 'goodbye' while she was coherent, so I would dream of being able to have one last nice day with her and telling her goodbye. I think it's normal.

And about the fire... You know the answer to your own question. You are a mother now. Think about it like a mother and not like a 13 year old and it will be obvious. Your mother loved you and your siblings, what would have been the point of being angry when everyone was okay?

The ferry... ya sure you weren't watching Titanic last night? Maybe you're having urges to push John off a ferry. ;o)