Therapy waiting to happen - Oct 15th 2004

This morning was definatly a time when I needed my boyfriend to be laying right next to me. I had a nightmare that my mother died. And it wasn't that she was already dead. That would have been easier. But in my dream, she was younger, with her longer brown wavy hair and wearing her 80s pink workout jumpsuit. She was lying next to me and just said that this is the time to go. Then she accepted the fact that she was going to die, and they put a needle in her. Kind of like how they put a needle in your favorite pet to put them out. It was just like that.

Only she didn't die right away. She got up and walked away from me.

The next thing I remember is talking to her as she is now, older. But it was her spirit, not her body. We were sitting on the hill behind our house and we were holding hands. It seemed like now in her death, could I find the courage to actually talk to her and get advice. I told her my fears about whether there was a God or not and how I told her to let me know if there was a heaven because I was terrified that she was going to leave me and I would never see her again. Then I told her how I thought that dad was going to die first and how I didn't know what he was going to do without her.

Then she let go of my hand and went away.

I walked into the house screaming, although my screams seemed choked, crying and kicking the walls of the hallway leading to my parents bedroom. I was inconsolible. I opened the door and found my father in bed rocking back and forth like my mom used to hold and rock him. He was lying on her side of the bed and his hair was a mess. He was in shock. And I had to be the strong one to get him through.

When I woke up, I started crying immediatly. I actually cried hard and long. Something I haven't done in a long time. I knew it was a dream but in a way, it still felt like I was dreaming because I still felt the fear. Part of me was crying out of relief that my mother wasn't dead and the other part of me was crying because I knew how it would feel when my mom would die.

I have been thinking about death a lot. Especially in conjunction with my parents. It doesn't seem real to me that my parents probably have 10 (plus or minus a few) good years left and then they'll be gone. I can't imagine coming home and not seeing my father spraying down the driveway with his headphones on or hearing my mom in the kitchen or seeing her in her rocking chair.

I can't fathom it.

Before - After