A couple of weeks ago, I had a dream about you and me. I was sitting on your lap, not as a child, but as an adult. And you were rocking me or comforting me, and still being the mother who babies me. But the thing is that I liked it. Not just because you were holding me- though that was really nice. But more so because you seemed strong enough to do so, comfortable and healthy and as if you wanted me to know you could still make things better.
I was waiting for a class. It was some kind of class that I was nervous about- like an acting class or maybe some kind of dance or performance class. And, without words, you wanted me to know everything was going to be okay. I think that while I was sitting on you and you had your arms around me, I realized the door to the class had opened and I was going to be late. I worried a little about that for a moment, but then I didn’t seem to care, because nothing seemed better or more important than to be exactly where I was, in my mother’s arms.
It was so different than most of the other dreams that I have had about you since you’ve been gone. The other dreams are disturbing, painful, scary and don’t make me feel l like you are at peace. In the other dreams, sometimes, you didn’t know you had passed away. Other times, you were bleeding, or there was some part of your body that was not together with the rest of you. Or you were tired or upset or I continued to make the mistake of not dropping everything and just concentrating on you. In some of the dreams, I tried to help you, but I couldn’t for some reason. And then I would wake up in tears, or feeling guilty, or feeling as if my heart literally hurt.
And I didn’t know what to make of those dreams. Sometimes, I hear about people who have dreams of their loved ones who have passed away. That the person who has passed, sends down messages- usually of comfort or something more positive.
I started worrying that if I was only dreaming of disheartening things that felt full of anguish, that maybe that meant that you were not well, or at peace. And that is so hard to live with, or to not know the true answer to. And of course, the hardest part is to feel helpless in not knowing what I can do to make sure of your peace.
But then there was this one dream- the one about you holding me. And even if it means nothing, or even if I don’t know what to make of it, it is the one I really have to hold on to. It just felt right- to be an adult and still be able to be comforted by my mother’s arms and her lap. It doesn’t matter how old I get, or how much time passes, I will always be your little girl, your baby.
I am just sorry I didn’t let you baby me as much as you wanted sometimes, while you were here. I would do anything to have you put your hand on my forehead like you used to, to sooth my head. Or to lay on your lap. That was one of my favorite feelings. Or even just to hold your hand or have you feed me a piece of cake, or to just sit near you or watch you sleep.
If you can hear me or read these words that I am typing, and you can find a way to let me know how you are, through my sleep, I would love it if you could show up in my dreams sometimes. Well, if I had my way, it would be all the time. I just want to know that you are okay, and truthfully, not just because you know I want to hear it.
Send me any messages that you need to- whether they are positive or not. I just need to hear from you. And of course, I do hope that you are at peace and being comforted and loved and pampered and showered with happiness yourself.
Oh, the comfort of a mother’s lap. There’s nothing else like it. I hope you are enjoying the soothing of your mother as well.
Always your baby,