more dreams…

A few weeks ago, I awoke to knocking on the front door. It was early, and I leapt from bed and ran halfway down the hall before I wondered who could be visiting so early in the morning. “Darn religious door-to-door-ers,” my mind scrambled, then the thought, “oh no, what if it’s the police and E was in an accident en route to work?”

I stopped short of the door and listened. Then, I went to the window and looked out. No one was there. I opened the door and walked to the street side. Looking up and down, I confirmed there was absolutely no one around.

Folding my arms, I continued to wait, looking. Maybe someone was at a neighbors door. I looked. Nothing. I went back inside, looked out the window a few more times, and finally returned to bed.

As I waited to drift back to sleep, I realized it was the time of day Mom used to typically arrive in the days, weeks, and months that followed her retirement. In fact, the light tapping type knock was her signature knock. It was with warm realization these remembrances sifted through my sleepy consciousness.

Since then, I have been awoken several more times by this knocking. A few days ago, there was a knock on my bedroom door, louder and slightly more immediate sounding. I thought it was my son, or E. But no, no one was there. In fact, Mom’s knock used to be louder inside. I always thought when she knocked a bit insistently on my bedroom door (her signature indoor knock), it was because she felt slightly shut out if my door was closed. Mom was a people person and prefered open doors in the house.


The night before last, I had a wonderful, odd dream. We lived where we live, street name I saw in my dream. I knew in my dream that Mom and I had parted ways and were supposed to meet at my house. I was a few blocks away when we had parted, and I went the usual way home.

After sitting around for maybe 20 minutes or so, E pointed out that my Mom should have arrived by now. He was right, and I was suddenly very concerned. I went out onto the street. The street appeared like one in San Francisco, tall and sloping. In between the houses across the way, I could see a myriad of activities from neighbors and cars, music and noise sifting through like a crazy street fair. This was going on one street away. Long expanses of grass were perceptible, and the mood was happy. That’s when I saw Mom from afar, and she was walking a German Shepard. It didn’t have long hair like Oz, but it was pulling her like he used to. She could barely slow him with the leash, he pulled so hard. In the dream, Mom found this funny and was laughing! She was trying to keep ahold of this beautiful shepard dog. Was it Oz in summertime, like when we would have the groomers shave his fur? I don’t know. Maybe.

Next part of the dream, Mom was by me and I heard her, but couldn’t see her anymore. It was like she was speaking from another room, or behind me.

“Honey, you need this. You NEED this type of thing,” she told me, lovingly.

I had the German Shepard in front of me, and I was hugging him for dear life. I hugged him so tightly. I felt tremendous love from the dog. I know the dog recognized me and loved me, but in the dream, I did not label him as Oz… he just knew me and loved me. I loved him so much, and hugging him was the best feeling in the world. Then I awoke.


Last night I dreamed about Mom again.

In my dream, I had not visited Mom in days. I thought this was because Ron had told me Mom was not well, not at all well, which I translated to mean she had passed away. I thought he had not used those words because he was afraid I would fall into despair. So, instead, I sat by the phone, staring at it, in a daze… apparently for days.

When I came to, mentally, I phoned her place, which in the dream was a sort of hospital, sort of rest home. They refused to tell me anything about her condition, or even if she was still alive. I became very angry and was yelling at someone on the phone.

I went to the establishment and was made to wait in the waiting room. No one would tell me a thing. I saw my cousin, Maryann, and thought she was saddened by the situation, but I knew she did not have information either. Finally, I stormed into an office and was very, very angry. They told me to go downstairs, and that Ron was there downstairs, too. I felt that I knew Mom was in a coma. I did not want to see her that way, and every step I took filled me with new fear.

I descended to the first floor, where Ron was speaking to a doctor. He was busy and could not tell me anything. I decided to find Mom myself.

I went up and down the halls until I found her. She was in a room, and looked up when I came in. She smiled and was so happy to see me. Her face lit up. She wasn’t ill-looking. In fact, she looked beautiful. But when she stood to come over to me… yes, she stood, on her own… but when she did, her knees buckled in the middle and she had to walk to me as someone does who has certain childhood syndrome where their legs buckle together at the knees. It was with difficulty she walked to me, but she was walking nonetheless.

“Mom! You’re okay! And you are walking!” I was amazed.

Mom smiled and said, “Let’s get out of here. Let’s walk around a little bit.”

We walked down the hall and into a room which had a gorgeous view, like a rolling prairie with hills and trees extending very far. It was a rainy day, and we sat to watch outside, the patchy fog, rain, and clouds, as they rolled past. In the distance was a bridge.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been to see you,” I started. I didn’t want to tell her I thought she had passed away, because I did not want to give that thought to her head as an option in any way for the future. It also seemed suddenly rude that I’d jumped to that conclusion.

I continued, “I got this job you know, and guess it has kept me so busy.” It was true, I had been working a great deal, before I had been told she was unwell.

“I know you do,” Mom said. “You got that job because I prayed for you to.” I was awestruck. Mom continued to tell me that she knew I needed a job, and so she prayed until I had this one, one which I did truly love. I don’t know what it was, but I knew in the dream it was deeply fulfilling. Mom told me she prayed for me all the time.

After a time visiting, I asked her if she wanted to go outside. The rain had let up. She smiled, and we went out. The building was tall, and it was like something you’d see back east, east coast maybe. I think it was light-colored, but made of brick of some sort. It was beautiful, and wet leaves tumbled to the ground as we took a circle around the block.

Mom still had trouble walking, and E (who reappeared then) and I helped her up on each side until she stood straight. Once she practiced, she began to walk stronger and straighter until she was nearly walking ‘normal.’

“You need some leg braces, maybe?” I offered.

“I do, they would help,” Mom said. “But when I told Ron, he wanted to buy me purple kneesocks and green kneesocks!” Mom rolled her eyes.

“Kneesocks won’t help you!” I smiled.

“I know,” Mom laughed. “But that’s Ron for you! He means well.” Mom was smiling.

“Well, we’ll bring you some leg braces,” I offered.

Mom and I had arrived back at the front of the building. We both were enjoying how beautiful the street was with the wet pavement strewn with leaves. Mom and I exchanged warm words, which I don’t recall, and then, I awoke.

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