I can hear her sweet voice as she reads to my children. They are laughing and though I can’t see them the joy is evident by the noises that are coming from their room. I can hear her say their names sweetly as she continues the story. Everything is right. Everything is perfect. Everything feels just as it should be.
I step into the hall and quietly venture to the room that holds all of them, my children and my mother. I very discreetly take a peek, the vision is perfection. My mother snuggled in-between her grandchildren. The way she touches them, the way she speaks to them, it’s evident they are loved immensely. I feel blessed and fulfilled. Everything feels right. Everything feels perfect. Everything feels just as it should be.
I smile as my eyes fill with tears. I’m happy.
I wake up happy too, until the moment reality sets in and I feel the sting of grief.
It was all a dream. My mother isn’t here. She hasn’t been for years. This was the kind of dream you’re both grateful for and also pained by. It was beautiful, but it hurts. It felt like a gift, but also like a stab to the heart too. Blessed to have her voice softly fill my head, pained to wake up and realize it’s the only way she can be heard.
I close my glossy eyes praying to find the same dream I’d just left. It doesn’t come. I’m left here in this comfy bed with aching spots deep inside my soul. I’m left chasing dreams. Chasing her, just as I have since the day she left.
