My Mom Dream

Mom/Gramma Rose (center) with Meagan and Kate, Thanksgiving 2000 (by Greg)

I know that I have mentioned my dad several times in this blog; my mom, not so much. Probably because Mom has been gone a lot longer -- almost eight years now. I guess I'm just used to her being on the inside of me now, instead of on the outside. (We're all still getting used to Dad's new place.)

This picture was taken on our last Thanksgiving with Mom. She died the following February. I had a another dream about her last week. (Interestingly, I dream about Mom a lot, but I have yet to have a dream about my dad. I wonder why.)

I wrote down what I could remember of my dream, because I felt like it was important. Unfortunately, although I remember feeling that it made sense in the context of what had happened that day, I can no longer remember what that was. Also, the words I wrote on that little yellow slip of paper are doing nothing for me at this point as far as re-creating my dream. I wrote:

Mom. Crowded shopping, My purse $3.00, Hold Mom's expensive purse, Bathroom.

Honestly, I haven't got a clue!

Well, actually, there are a few clues here -- clues to the way I perceived my mom anyway...Shopping was one of our favorite things to do together. Most of the dreams I have about Mom involve shopping. So this trip involved crowded shopping conditions. (I do remember that it was some sort of an outdoor market, and I remember that that made sense when I first awakened. Alas, not any more.)

I must have had $3.00 in my purse. Typical. But I probably thought I had more. (In fact, I'm probably still convinced that there's a $20 bill safely tucked away in some forgotten compartment, just waiting to be discovered.) But maybe, together with the next part about holding Mom's expensive purse, the $3.00 notation simply means that my purse was cheap by comparison -- like $3.00 on sale. (I have bought purses in the $3.00 price range, while Mom's tastes -- in purses as in everything else -- tended to be a little more expensive.)

Clearly, then, Mom asked me hold her expensive purse while she went to the bathroom. Or maybe I went to the bathroom. I seem to remember being in the bathroom at this open-air market. I also remember Mom's purse. I thought it was ugly, being made of four different kinds of leather that didn't really go together. Expensive leather, but not attractive. (She probably got her purse on sale, too. But she would have paid at least $10.00.)

Well, if you're still reading at this point, were you hoping that in writing about my dream, I would come to some sort of an Oprah Ah-ha Moment that would explain it all? Me too. Apparently that's not gonna happen. (Sigh. Maybe I'll have another Mom dream soon.)

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Thanksgiving (and the start of that whole Holiday Season thing) is a big time for missing our loved ones who live on the inside, even as we stress out about getting together with the ones who still live on the outside. I guess that's human nature -- the stress part, I mean. We'll be with my brother Mark and his family. My Michigan sisters and brother -- and our step-mom/friend, Betty, will be with us, too, because we'll be together in missing Mom and Dad. Maybe we'll have a chance to share some of our memories over the telephone.

This Thanksgiving -- our first without Dad -- is going to be a sad one. But I know there'll be laughter, too. And I know Mom and Dad will be with all of us, in Michigan and North Carolina. They can do that when they live on the inside, you know.

When I'm ready, I may write an entire week's worth of posts about my Mom. Things I remember about our times together, dreams I've had, conversations I continue to have with her. I have pages and pages of journal entries to which I can refer. For now, though, I just wish I could hear the back door open, catch a whiff of her perfume (her most recent favorite was Pleasures), hear her footsteps and her soft voice saying, "Hello? Anybody home?)