In dreams she comes to me; healthy and hale. Living.
In dreams she touches me; warm and strong hands. Firm embraces.
In dreams she speaks to me; words of love and comfort. Encouragement.
In dreams she tells me; I am in your heart, your mind, your conscience. I am in every fibre, every cell. I am gone, but you still have me.
The mother of my dreams is still vibrant and strong, with pre-chemo hair: wavy and thick, jet and silver. She is full of life, of action, of energy. She holds my hand, dries my tears, smoothes my hair. She kisses the top of my head and helps me to get up. To go on. To see hope in the future. To act.
I wake in tears. Such joy to see her again, such pain to lose her again.
My mother.
Those dreams are wonderful. The bad part is waking up and realizing it was a dream. At least you have those wonderful moments in dreams that make you realize the person you love is not really gone.
Beautifully said, Amber. And so true.
Beautifully written Kath…excellent picture. Dreams are the best of what we have of them to carry us through the day and night. They illustrate our memories.
Amber
I don’t dream of my mom either, but sometimes I just feel her all around me.
I wish I would dream about her. To have her close again.