In the dream she leaned out over me, as if I were lying down in a bed. She had her short grown-in cancer haircut, but she could smile and talk, without confusion or pain. Her shoulders were bare, her skin glowing. (Had she just come in from a beach walk?). I was surprised to see her–as you would be, to see anyone who’d died—but the more I looked and looked at her the more I understood that she was there, she was back, she was really with me in the same room. Oh, you’re here, I dream-thought. Oh I am so happy to see you.
About eighteen months, now—I can do the math but why bother. I talk about her casually enough: ‘This song reminds me of my mom,’ or ‘As my mom would say…’ You might not even understand at first, if you did not know me, that I had lost her. I use things she gave me all the time: my favourite hoodie, my painted tea tin, some printed tea towels.
Eighteen months is about as long as I ever went without seeing her—it has to have been between my sister’s wedding in July 2009, right after I first came back to Wellington, and when she came for our birthdays in March 2011. I no longer have the urge to call or text her the way I did for the first weeks and months, but just lately I have wondered if maybe I shouldn’t be looking into tickets, for one or the other of us? Because surely it’s time we had a visit?
She leaned out over me, as if I were lying down in a bed. She smiled her gentle smile at me. She was the person I loved most in the world, and I haven’t seen her for such a long time.
This is her, visiting me. This is the neurotransmitters in my brain crossing the synaptic gap as I sleep. This is my memory mixed up with my futile, wasteful regrets. This is the dream.
Comments
4 responses to “Surely It’s Time”
I remember those dreams, their immediacy & lingering since of comfort sometimes.. long after I’d woken and realised it was “just a dream”. There is no just in there, enjoy these snatched moments with her. Lots of love xxx
I know it seems egoistic telling you that, but you incredible talent and self make us almost able to share your pain, regret and longing…and then we watch around and think that we’re lucky to have still our loved ones, but that won’t last and we have to try to make the most of their presence till we can. I feel it every time I say goodbye by skype to my parents “please let it not be the last time…”
Thanks Chiara, you’re great. Your mum must have been so much proud of her girl!
That is so very beautiful. Thank you.
I’ve read your blog for years, but I don’t think I have ever commented. This post, is so beautiful, so vibrant with your love of your mom.
This is one of the sweetest, most poignant things I have ever read. I have so many dreams of my own mother, who died almost 4 yrs ago. They are always so sweet, and like your dream, she is so comforting and to be honest-there for me in a way she never was when she was alive. I wake up, so happy-and then it hits me that she is gone. Do we ever really get over this?