To dream

Saturday I attended the memorial service for my close friend's father who recently passed away after a nine year battle with leukemia. It was a service filled with music, song, and spoken words for a man who was respected and loved by so many people. I thought a lot about the service later that afternoon as I was nearing the last few miles of my 18 mile run. The sun was setting and the ice on the Charles River reflected the pinks and purples of an incredible winter sky. I was thinking about my friend sitting stoically with her sister and mother in the front pew. I wondered if she felt as unsettled as I did after my mother's memorial service. The day ends, people say their good-byes and go back to their weekends, and you are stuck with the sadness and the void that the memorial service helps soften for everyone else. I felt unsettled thinking about how I had been unable to find any words to express to her how sorry I truly was. It was so unsettling to me because having gone through something similar, I knew that there were no words that would truly bring her comfort.

There are some weeks when I may actually go a few days without thinking about my mother. There are some weeks when I would give my right arm to be able to pick up the phone and call her; times when all I need is someone I trust absolutely to sit and listen to me. There is something so unique about a mother's love. It cannot be duplicated or replaced. So when I yearn for that love, it leaves me feeling very alone. Sometimes I'll have a dream with my mother in it, and it gives me a small fix. Then the sun starts to shine in through my window, I get pulled out of my dream, and she slips through my fingers again. The emptiness of those mornings is hard to shake.

But the dreams are better than nothing. I believe there are nights when my mom is actually visiting me in my dreams. It's funny because I'll be having one of my usual dreams about stealing cars, or walking with Barack Obama, or petting a dolphin, and then all of a sudden the scene shifts and I'm in my house, and I know I'm going to see my mom. I'm dreaming, but I'm absolutely aware that I'm dreaming. There is an awareness that there is very little time, and that as quickly as my mom appears, she will disappear. Sometimes I only have the chance to say "I love you" before she turns to dust. Other times we have more time, and she will have something to say to me too. Lately, if she appears at all, she's in the background. But I think she knows that if I really needed to see her, she would show up.

So to my dear friend, I'm sorry I didn't have the words. But I wish you a peaceful sleep, and I hope once in a while your amazing father strolls into your dreams, and for that moment, you have him back.