More Dreams

Since my last post, I’ve had several more times where a knocking has woken me in the morning, all about the time Mom would have arrived in the good days. Each time I check, and each time there is no one visible. Once since my last posting, I was awaken from a sleep by a (rather loud) piano sound, two chords each played three times: one, one, one… two, two, two. I sat up in bed, wondering who would be playing piano so early in my morning. Derek, our neighborhood teen pianist? No. Not this early. C’s girlfriend? Maybe. Let’s see.

Out I went and the house was still. No one was awake yet, and yet the sound was so real that it prompted me to check the house- twice. No one.

Mom always wanted to learn the piano. In fact, I bought her a little ceramic music box which was a Victorian woman playing the piano.

“I wish I had learned,” Mom would tell me often.

“You can learn!” I’d encourage.

“No, honey, not at my age. I’m too old now.”

Mom would tell me how Auntie Eleanor had been forced into taking guitar lessons, and that Mom would go to watch. Eleanor would cry and throw herself down, refusing the lessons and refusing to practice. Mom would sneak the guitar and try to learn what she had watched. Finally, Eleanor’s lessons were terminated, since she hated them so much. Mom went into the bedroom, closed the door, and cried. She told no one. She didn’t want to be a financial burden on her parents.

“Guitar was nice, but what I really wanted was to learn piano. Oh, I love the piano,” Mom told me.

I would tell her all you need to do is be able to count. When we moved near a piano teacher who taught from her home, I encouraged Mom again. But it was something not meant to be.


I had another Mom dream. We were at a Universal Studios type place, and it was nighttime. We walked along the pedestrian walk taking in the shops and activity. There was a large crowd assembled in front of one place, and I asked what the fuss was. “Michael Jackson is performing!” a giddy fan squealed. Mom asked if I wanted to wait in line, and I said no, that we’d never get in with that crowd. We kept walking.

A few shops down there was another crowd assembled. It was a fan convention for the L Word! There were posters up saying Kate Moennig would be speaking. Again, Mom asked would I liked to go in. I said ok, as the crowd was small. We went in together and sat to the side. I felt antsy though, and suggested we leave. And we did.

A small while later, E came up and joined us, as if he had just arrived.

“You two kids should have some dinner together, over there,” Mom pointed to a restaurant.

“Nah, I don’t really want to,” I explained. Eric became angry. He huffed off in the direction of the restaurant, alone.

“Honey, you should go, too,” Mom suggested.

“I really don’t want to. I want to stay here with you,” I smiled.

Mom made a kindly disapproving face. “You need to go that way,” she pointed toward Eric and the restaurant.

“I don’t want to.” I awoke.


Another dream. I’m at the back of the house and hear Mom’s voice. I know she is gone, and I am in shock and disbelief. I feel confused and completely and totally, ecstatically overwhelmed. I rush to where I hear her, and she is at the edge of the kitchen, speaking to Eric.

“Mom!!!!!!” I call out, and open my arms, tears forming in my eyes.

“Oh, just a second, honey,” she replies, and continues to- yes- gently chide and scold Eric for being untidy in the kitchen. She is telling him how I would not want him being slovenly, and how he can do things differently (better). I can tell she is happy to see me, but she impulsively wants the business at hand tended to, and the mess Eric is making supersedes sentimentality for the moment.

This is so true to what would be. Mom was forever pragmatic and not inclined to the over sentimentality while I have… at least she was not one to engage in it visibly.

I loved her all the more for it. I awoke.


Another Mom dream. She is at my house and telling me how she has something to tell me which is very important. I need to listen. I need to stop the frivolity and really pay attention. After expressing this several ways, she turns around, with a serious, set expression. She is wearing her normal clothes, but is also…. wearing a man’s bow tie!! We both bust up laughing. I awake.

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