Tears streamed down my face this morning. "You could've let me say five more words, you know, just five more words." In my head, I was complaining to Dream. Outside, I was sobbing quietly.
In the previous scene, I was on other business, with some somehow familiar friends, when I had a feeling my mother was about to go, and I'd better get over there to see her. I left where I was, and went somewhere else.
I thought she might be gone, as if she were very ill somehow, but she was there, on a low bed, in an odd situation, bunking up with someone, as I'd never allow her to be in real life. As I opened the door, she woke up, and I felt relief she was there. She was sleepy, but alert, in her right mind, as she sometimes wasn't during our lives in this realm, looked better than she did at the actual end. Her hair was in her usual updo, messy from sleep, blonde and wild like mine, wearing a bright fuschsia gown with colorful piping at the sleeves. I knelt down to the bed, embraced her still-lying form.
"Hi, how are you?" she said softly, opening her green eyes for a moment. "I'm good, just tired from work," I said, hugging her more. There the scene faded to light, and I woke up, disappointed, crying.
Seven years have passed since my mother did. I dream of her sometimes, not often. I wish I could know she was listening, but I'll say what I wanted to anyway, at the end of the dream: "There's been some trouble, but I'm taking care of everyone, Mama, like I promised you I would. And we'll be ok. We're working, and having fun as we can."
Maybe the mists between realms are still thin enough that my words can get through.
"Though the dawn may be coming soon, there still may be some time." - G. Wright