In My Dream

I woke up a few mornings ago feeling both happy and sad, desperately wanting to relive the dream I just had.      

The dream occurred sometime after I returned to my bed from a quick bathroom trip around 5 a.m.

I had made a phone call and instead of hearing the person I thought would answer, a faint, unexpected voice replied on the other end. I looked at my phone to make sure I had called the correct number, and surprisingly it said MOM in strange looking capital letters. Confused, I asked “Mom?  Is that you?” and she said very softly and somewhat unsteadily, “Yes, Judy, it’s me.”

I asked how she is doing, and she said “fine, good,” which is how she always responded to that question. Then, she asked, “Do you think you can come visit me this weekend?” and to that I excitedly said, “Of course mom, I will!”

When I woke up, I felt that I had just talked to her, and I was sooooo happy! Soon after, I realized that NO, I would not be visiting her this weekend.

I have had her on my mind a lot lately as we inch closer to the 6^th anniversary of her passing, so perhaps that is why I had this dream, and/or maybe she was – as David cringes when I say – trying to communicate with me to let me know she’s doing OK…and that she wishes we could spend more time together.

For several mornings after that, I tried to recreate the dream. I’d get back in bed after my early morning bathroom visit and replay the phone conversation over and over again, step by step, thinking at some point my internal algorithm would kick in since I had been concentrating so hard…to no avail. The only other memory I have upon waking since then with any kind of clarity is holding on to a tree that was skating down a hilly sidewalk.

I wish I could make a reservation with the powers that be for regularly scheduled morning or afternoon greetings from my mom. It would be so wonderful to have this feeling of connection on a daily basis.

If I told David I feel upset that I may never experience this meaningful kind of moment again, I’m pretty sure he’d offer to rig something up electronically so that her voice would act as an alarm of sorts, regardless of the time of day. Perhaps through Alexa this could be arranged, but I have to admit that these artificial solutions to replay the conversation would end up creeping me out.      

When I think it all through, the most interesting part of the phone call is that it reminded me of how much I miss her inherent qualities, like the sound of her voice.

I am sure we all wish we could have another real encounter with those we have lost.

For now, dreams will have to suffice.