LOOKING BACK...by b. Malin
THE DREAM...
Looking back over some of my earlier writings, I rediscovered this piece neatly tucked away and almost forgotten...Now I'd like to share it.
Mother died in September, but that still doesn't stop me from wanting to write to her, or call her on the phone, just to talk...to know that she is there. In reality I know that she is gone. I know that I will never see or speak to her again. But I do not accept these facts that are so cold and final, and true. I want it all to just be a bad dream, that I will wake up from.
The other night I did dream of Mother. It is a strange dream filled with confusion. Except towards the end...I find myself in a darkened room which contains two twin beds, that are separated by just a few inches. I am lying on one of the twin beds and Mother is lying on the other. We are silently holding hands with one another. I am staring silently up at the ceiling slightly in awe of my situation, almost afraid to breathe.
I look across at Mother, who died a month after her seventy-fifth Birthday...She is still beautiful. I can see the outline of her lovely golden hair. She in turn, his staring sadly back at me.
"We miss you Mom" I say softly. "And I miss all of you" she replies back. I don't remember doing it, but suddenly I am sitting up, and so is Mother. We are now facing one another and both our hands entwined with one another.
"Oh sweetheart, she sighs, my baby girl". I am almost Forty years old...But to my Mother, I am Bobbie, to her, I will always be her baby...her youngest child.
"Oh Mom" I say softly, I want to choose my words carefully..."What's it like on the other side"? She seems to heave a heavy sigh before she answers me. "Oh Bobbie", she replies, "I just didn't know that I wouldn't be able to work anymore". "Oh Mom" I sigh, I miss you so much". She looks solemnly into my eyes and replies back, "I know, I miss you too"...And then she repeats those sad words..."I just didn't know that I wouldn't be able to work anymore". This woman, my Mother was a "work-a-holic" here on earth. Please God, I think silently to myself, Let her dust the clouds, or be your Assistant, she takes dictation, oh so well...and Management?...She can do anything!
Once again we are staring silently at one another. I want to comfort her, to say more...But the room is growing darker...It is getting hard to see her...And then she is gone, and I am alone. I feel hot and sweaty as I wake up and look at the clock. It is seven fifteen, and it was only a dream...or was it? I'm not so sure.