I finally dreamed about my mother after months of nothing:
There were spiders by my bed.
I went in search of a vacuum cleaner.
I found my mother lying sideways on her bed. Her stomach was HUGE with tumors. She looked 9 months pregnant.
She was saying things that didn't make any sense. That was one of the signs that she was slipping away the first time. I ran to her and took her hand and said loudly "what did you say?" I wanted to wake her up a bit. She said "I"m glad we had all those times." I started to cry (which I also haven't really done in a long time). I was kneeling by her and put my face in her hand. (as I did many times in real life the first time around). "Oh, I am going to MISS you, momma! I remember when the first half of you died, and I talked to you a lot afterwards. Do you remember that? Could you hear me?" She hesitated and replied apologetically "not consciously" and I said "not consciously?" at the same time. We smiled because we were both thinking the same thing. We were amidst serious discussion about what she could do to show me that she was still around after she died this time, but I woke up in the middle of it.
It was good to see her again. Her hands were so soft. But she looked horribly uncomfortable, which was sad. I didn't envy her the task of having to die again. It didn't look easy the first time.
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Okay! Got that down. I'm already forgetting parts of it. I also remember parts about small airplanes landing and I was stuck on an airstrip trying to get out of the way. And I also remember parts about someone telling me my hair looked awful and that I should get it cut. That part may have been as I was on my way to the dusty, small town airstrip.
My dreamlife is one hundred times more fascinating than my waking life.
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