Ephemeral

Last night, my mother made an appearance in a dream. This is now only the second time that I've seen my mother since she passed away nearly 4 years ago from metastatic cancer.

The first time she appeared in one of my dreams, it was after several months had passed. The dream was of nothing in particular, just my mother and I shopping at an outlet mall for some clothes. But in my dream she was well, free of pain, strong and in full health. We shopped carefree, her walking without assistance, laughing and smiling... several things that my mother was unable to do during the last few months of her life. That dream, which lasted only one short night, is memorable in its simplicity and comfort that it brought me. There was no memory of cancer, no memories of pain, no memories of the suffering that she endured; just the comfort of being enveloped in her love again.

But yesterday's dream saddens me to an insurmountable degree because the dream ended with my mother and I in an argument. The topic of conversation is irrelevent, for what matters most is how the last thing I remember is me raising my voice at my mother.

I awoke abruptly, confused, still upset. It was pitch dark. As I squinted at the clock to orient myself, the realization of the dream was immediate. The heaviness in my heart quickly set in as regret and remorse amplified. I sobbed myself back to sleep quietly in shame, wishing I had the ability to understand I was dreaming at the time.

These two times my mother had appeared, I never realized that I was dreaming. A gift and a curse. I miss her so much. I never recognize that these are dreams and that several very short hours later I will awaken to my harsh reality. I'm never able to tell her how much she means to me. How my love for her is infinite.

I'm sorry, Mom.
Please forgive me.