My mom died of ALS 4 1/2 years ago.
Last night I dreamed that I had my mom back. Not forever…just for a weekend. And in my dream I knew that.
I started out simply elated in my dream. She was completely healthy again and looked really, really pretty just sitting on my couch.
I was flitting and jumping around…only occasionally stopping for a second to let her talk. I was catching her up on all the things she’d missed out on over the past 4 1/2 years. There was SO MUCH to tell her! I got out pictures and showed her Malachi’s birth and all the boys and how much they’d grown.
Somehow in my dream, I had her all to myself for the whole weekend. There were no interruptions and I didn’t have to share her with anyone. It was incredible.
And then…suddenly the weekend was almost over. The reality of that hit me and all I could do was throw my head into her lap and sob. I couldn’t even talk anymore to tell her all the things I wanted to tell her about how much I’d missed her. I couldn’t even ask her all the questions I’ve been wanting to ask her about how much spice to put into a certain recipe or about how old I was when I first started doing certain things.
All I could do was sob.
My dream ended there. I woke up crying and couldn’t stop. So I got up and tried to put my thoughts into words.
I tend to think about her more this time of year. Her birthday is coming up in May…and well…so is Mother’s Day.
I miss her.
But now that I’m awake enough to think a little more clearly…I wouldn’t wish her back to this earth. Not even so that I could have her all to myself for a weekend. Not even so that she could see my precious boys and see how big and smart and handsome and amazing they are. Not even so that I could once more throw my head onto her lap and let her hold me while I cry.
She’s in the perfect place.
Knowing that is enough to stop my tears.
Or at least change them to tears of joy.
