In the two years plus since my mom died of cancer, I’ve been haunted by
dreams where I struggled in vain to save her. Sometimes she was sick,
and I had to wade through rivers, searching for medicine I couldn’t
find. Sometimes she was lost, and calling me on the phone, again and
again, asking me why I didn’t come rescue her. Sometimes–but, never
mind, I’m sure you get it.
Then one night, in one dream, I knew–she had died. Half knowing that I was dreaming, I looked for her
anyway–and my dream let me find her, looking as if she were sleeping.
I woke up still feeling so happy, and so sad.
I want to be free of remembering my mother as if her whole being was
wrapped in the sickness that killed her. I want to remember the many
trips she and I and my daughters took together. I want to remember her rooting up weeds in the garden and
lobbing sticks for her dogs–Hilde, Annie, then Puppy. I want to remember her pleasure when I was
a kid over every poem or picture I made for her. I want to
remember her sure knowledge, long ago, of everything that I wanted to know for myself–for example, how to hold a puppy so
that it feels safe in your arms.
So it seems that my mother is no longer dying–not even in my dreams. I
look forward to spending some dream-time, maybe even having some
dream-time fights, with the hundreds of other mothers I remember.
5 responses so far ↓
1 Amy Wohl // Nov 11, 2003 at 9:40 am
Betsy, this post gave me that pain/pleasure feeling that is so familiar. At night I often dream of my dead family members, especially my father. Interestingly, in my dreams they are the way I would have liked them to be, even nicer than I remember them in life. I wish that happiness for you. I always awake with a smile on my face.
Amy
2 Betsy Devine // Nov 11, 2003 at 3:03 pm
Dear Amy, I look forward to getting to where you are with this. Thanks for the kind words!
3 Brother K // Nov 13, 2003 at 6:15 pm
Oh Betsy, I wish I could hug you right now and tell you that everything is fine with mom. But you are the older sister, and I am the younger brother. But I promise you, Betsy, mom is fine, and she is the same wonderful mother that taught you all those wonderful lessons in life. You are much like her actually. You have her charm, her strenth, and her beauty. You even have her talent for being totally honest, when needed, even if it isn’t particularly poplular. Send those dreams to the closet where all worthless dreams must go. They are not real. Her love of you and of life are real. The rest is BS. LOve you. Cap’n K.
4 Dan Devine // Nov 13, 2003 at 10:11 pm
Hi Betsy –
Saw your name as a link on the left of Dean’s website. My mom is a survivor of ovarian cancer. Our last names and the cancer of our mom’s prompted a message to your attention. My prayers are with you. My mom is an active member of a spiritual community of her chosen denomination. Her faith gives her strength through spirituality. Although the chemo can tire her, she is such a power of example. She is determined to live her life and overcome her cancer. May peace be with you.
Dan Devine
5 Betsy Devine // Nov 14, 2003 at 9:35 am
Maybe as a side effect from everyone’s kind wishes, I had some great dream adventures with my mom last night. We were at a big weekend party in Scotland–like one I just read about in a silly mystery tho nobody was getting murdered–we decided to duck out together for a few hours to go see the small town she grew up in. So we picked out a couple of tricycles to ride–it was all downhill both ways, she explained–and soon were enjoying the familiar scene in Florence, Massachusetts. Never did get back to the Scottish house party, probably because I woke up smiling. Hugs to my little brother Captain K, and warm good luck wishes to Dan Devine and his mom.