Dream of My Mother written 14 years ago.
Dream Of My Mother
Last night I dreamt I was back in Florida
visiting my mother’s retirement village.
She and I were on a bus that brought the residents to many activities.
We watched her neighbors jog to the clubhouse, walk to the pool,
run to the theater, or to stroll to the coffee house.
And we both thought
we don’t need those things.
we were happy leaning on each other’s arm, our heads together
as chatty as Viennese friends in their living room.
Then the dream changed.
I was hugging my mother bawling like a baby.
I wanted to hold forever
those tender feelings of a daughter in a child’s needy fingers;
to feel her soft and fuzzy cheek against my cheek,
or feel my hot tears of anger and disappointment
fall upon her comforting shoulder,
or feel the silk of her auburn hair
against my sobbing brow, as I did when I was sixteen, or thirty-two,
to hear her assure me again
with her ironic laughter
that I can still succeed, or that I will have many more lovers,
and yes I still have much to offer my overwhelming world.
Suddenly I felt cold plastic fingers poking my cheek.
I was embracing a naked baby doll.
I wailed but my cry had no sound.
Grief stuck in my throat.
The walls of my heart throbbed loudly
but I realized, with dry eyes,
I could not summon the child in me to have a voice;
my soul dominated my body consciousness.
I viewed the arteries of my heart as narrow alleys, too tiny for the ocean of love,
I viewed my memories as a treasure chest, with no room for self-pity,
I viewed my body as one of many, a carrier of a greater love.
I knew my mother and I were only evidences of this great love
that our understanding and affections for others in our lives
was part of the One parent.
There was no separation.
I could not grieve, knowing, she and I would never be separated.
Only the child of the ego, my tiny personality
would try to convince me that I was alone.
I sat up in bed awake, relieved.
My mother’s time to leave has not yet come.
I embrace the precious joy of our short times together.
I nod with compassion at the child within who would weep.
But I know her parents will greet her, and I again will meet her.
I vowed never to allow erroneous grief to keep her from the joy of Divine Mother.