It Wasn’t All Bad. We Had Some Good Times, Too.

(The post below was written on July 4, 2020. My mom passed on April 4, 2020.)

My mom died three months ago today.

I know I say this all the time, but it still doesn’t seem possible. It doesn’t seem real.

It feels like it was yesterday, but also like it’s been a million years.

Last night I had a dream about her. I went to her house to see her, but I was in another room talking to my dad for a while and I almost left without going in to see my mom.

As soon as I realized what I had almost done, I felt terribly guilty and quickly ran into the living room to see her. I was so mad and ashamed at myself. How could I have forgotten about her like that?

When I walked into the living room, my mom was sitting on the couch, but she was quickly sliding down to the floor. She frantically called out for me to help her. I carefully scooped her tiny, frail body into my arms and repositioned her so she was lying down. I made sure she was comfortable.

And then I sat on the floor by the couch, holding her hand and nuzzling close to her, not wanting to ever leave her side.

In my dream, my mom was wearing a red shirt and red, white, and blue beads around her neck.

Upon waking up from my dream, I immediately realized today is the three month anniversary of my mom’s death and it’s also the 4th of July.

How appropriate.

But instead of feeling the usual pain and sadness, I felt close to her. And I actually smiled. At the dream, at my mom, at the memory of this picture.

It wasn’t all bad. We had some good times, too.

Thanks, Mom, for helping me remember.

July 3, 2017: It wasn’t all bad. We had some good times, too.

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