Power of dreams

Taking a break from my usual book blog to talk about something weighing heavily on my heart today. November 7th, 2000, I lost my mother to cancer. She was 47. I don't know if it's the fact she would've been 63 next week or the fact an author friend recently lost his mother, but last night, I dreamed my mother spoke to me.

The actual dream is a little foggy, but in the dream, I spoke with a woman who had died before she crossed over. I wondered if I could ask her a question but changed my mind.

"She's not upset at you," the woman said. "She understands."

Tears immediately sprung to my eyes. Even now writing it. Before my mom had died, she and I got into a fight. She had been sick for a long time but had refused to go to the doctor so no one knew what was wrong. I was 18 and thought she was going to be fine. My mother was the strongest woman I knew. What bad could happen?

I wanted her to go to the doctor. That's what we fought about. I told her she was being selfish and seeing her like this was hurting me. I slammed my bedroom door and swore I wouldn't step foot outside for the rest of the night. My last thought before going to sleep later was that I should apologize. "I'll tell her in the morning." was the last thing I remember before my grandmother woke me up several hours later with the bad news.

Mothers and daughters fight all the time, especially at that age. But it ate me up that I never got the chance to apologize. She probably had already forgiven me before my head hit the pillow that night. But I never got to say the words.

The woman in last night's dream assured me again: my mother understood my feelings. She was happy and no longer in pain. She was so proud of me and the books I've written. "Especially the sci-fi series." I was reassured my worries would soon be in the past. Even was told in two months, my financial troubles would go away. I have long believed our loved ones don't really leave us and they do find ways to let us know things. I firmly believe last night, my mother spoke to me in my dream. My heart is so open and raw right now. It's a happy hurt.

Dreams are powerful things. It's not something I take lightly. Of course, it could be my brain telling me what I want to hear, but there was so much comfort in the woman's voice. I choose to have faith. I believe.

Never go to bed angry. Don't leave things unsaid. You may not get a chance to say you're sorry. I would give anything to tell my mother one more time I love her.

She knows, but it still doesn't take away the fact it went unsaid. Maybe now the hole in my heart can start to close.

All my love.