Saturday, November 16, 2013

Early morning gift.

*I walked into my Mother's bedroom at the Farmhouse and there she was, sitting upright, in one of her dark-stained, ladder-backed chairs.  She was surrounded by family members, who were already enjoying her company and perched on her bed and on other chairs.  I was obviously late to the party and there was nowhere left to sit.  Her smile was beaming at me and she gave me a hearty "Hey Sweet!"  I walked over, knelt in front of her, put my head in her lap and hugged her deeply.  I said, "I can't believe you're really here!" and she only said, "I hate that it's so dusty."  I looked over at my puzzled brother and then I asked her, "You mean the house?"  She answered, "No, me."  I just hugged her more while she played with my hair.  I wanted to hold onto her forever and never, ever let her go- And then I woke up.*

I didn't want to open my eyes for a long time because I was trying my best to hold on to that image of her but I knew that it was only a pillow to which I was clamoring, instead of my beautiful Mother.  When I finally peeked at the clock it read 2:30 a.m.  I had just received my first dream visit from Mom and while it was so hard watching that image fade away into the darkness, I couldn't help but feel incredibly grateful for this brief-lived gift.

It really doesn't matter from where these gifts are generated- from God, from Mom herself, from some special area of the brain- what matters is I have these dreams and they help me.  I don't know if others have this experience, but after I lose people whom I love very deeply, they will occasionally visit me in my dreams.  My Grandmother Fleta left us in the Spring of 1999.  Since her passing, she has waited at her kitchen table for me numerous times.  Sometimes my Grandaddy Reid is there as well.  We always share a quick bite to eat and I pass the napkins around.  In these dreams, I always know they are really gone from us and that I will have to say goodbye.  I always tell them I am glad to see them and that I love them; and then they are gone again.  Because this is a recurring dream, I believe that I will see my Mother again in similar dreams.  It only took a little over a week for her to appear to me but I needed it so badly.  Anyone who has lost a dear one, no matter their age or their circumstance, knows how devastating and empty it can feel.  I am happy to report that Mom looked so beautiful and healthy in my dream, like she had never been sick a day in her life or had to endure the treatments to fight her disease.
This helps me to remember that she didn't really die, only cancer died, to paraphrase a quote from one of the sympathy cards Herbert received from a friend.  I have been reminded twice in the last week to "look inside myself to find her."  I think this is true as well.  I look at her five grandchildren and see her in all of them.  I look at my siblings and see her again.  I look inside myself and there she is.  Another person wrote that "losing a parent is one of life's saddest milestones" and yet another said, "it is the season of our lives." I know that I must accept this as true, but I also know that I don't ever have to say good-bye.  It was always, "I'll see you later, OK?"

I found this beautiful song that I hope you will take time to hear.  It is a reminder that while I am waiting for her, she is waiting for all of us.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=61_qsDeuFu8&feature=share&list=ALYL4kY05133oxiIx_-pldYAFVm2Q_EwRM
This is Michael Kiwanuka, an artist recently seen on Austin City Limits.  It is beautiful song.  You will cry.

This post dedicated in the remembrance of my Beloved Mom, Cathy D. Ramsey, who left us far too soon, on November 6, 2013- Rest In Peace, Beautiful Lady