I rarely dream about my mom. It’s one of the things that bugs me most.
I have avoided the show “Resurrection” like the plague. I’ve seen commercials and it looks like people who have died come back to life. It makes me mad and sad all at once. If you’ve lost someone you love, the thought that they could ever come back is there. And that’s weird, I know it’s weird but you just miss them and think they’re wherever they are doing whatever it is they’re doing–but they’re not gone.
But last night I dreamed about her. I was hugging Allie this morning and while rocking her realized like a light that I had dreamed about her. I desperately clung to the memory digging for anything I could to remember.
It’s dreams like that that I force myself to remember because they’re so fleeting.
All I know was she was there as real as can be and I was angry. Where had she been?! I needed her and she was gone.
“Oh I’ve been here!”
She said happily. All I knew was she isn’t. Not now. Not to me and I was sad and angry. That’s not how I want to have dreams. I don’t want to be mad. I just want to talk like we always did and I want a hug and to be happy.
It’s not the kind of dream I like but she was there. And it was her.
And that’s all I can get.
I’ll hang on to it for dear life. Because for now, that’s my mom.