My mother died of brain cancer a month ago. The 3-month process of her illness was very hard for me as I watched it ravage her fast and without much to do. Add to this that I'm her only son, that my father's gone too and I'm single, so I left my house and all the decisions, duties and care were on me.
First days after she passed I felt surprisingly calm, maybe dizzy or groggy. Later I began to feel the loss; I was sad and began talking to (should I say 'with'?) her, asking for a sign that she was still there, in some place or state or form. Although I consider myself a rational, agnostic and skeptic man, I couldn't think of this as an end. Such a cruel, unfair and abrupt end to my mother had no sense, no logic, there had to be a balance al least. Also couldn't stand that we weren't able to say goodbye to each other and give her the last days of care and love, a tiny way to return all that she gave and blessed me with for 40 years.
This week I've dreamed of her twice. In the first dream I was in a room at her house, and she entered the dining room, knew I was there and called me 'papito' like she used to for decades and went on with her things. Her voice was clear, and I was longing for hearing it again. The second is the most important one. I dreamed that I was wandering in the city, with the bizarre mixtures of places, people and facts ordinary dreams have. But I arrived to her house, also mine in my childhood and youth, entered the humble laundry and tool room, and as I put my bag on the floor, she entered (I'm crying as I type) and stood near me. The image was very clear, she looked like in her last years but healthy and sweet as she was with a tiny, vivid-red coat she used to wear. It was clear for the me-in-the-dream that she was no longer with me, so I rushed and hold, hug, caressed her, said some things in a 'you are here' sense and felt wondered by her presence. I'm not sure she said something, just that her temper was quiet and peaceful. After that I do remember she said to me 'cuidate' (take care). Then I woke up, with my arms on my chest.
The dream was touching but the thing that amazes me most is that I felt actual, tactile sensantions holding her. Very real. Like a transmission from what took place in the dream to my sleeping body. Something I never experienced as all my dreams (and I guess most people's) are like a film where only sound and image are present. And unlike ordinary dreams where time is twisted and oniric facts are shrinked to seconds, this felt like a real-time event.
My skepticism doesn't let me confirm nor deny it was her, but I'd like to believe that she answered my call and visited me. That farewell is not a one time fact but a process somehow we passed during her last weeks in hospital, as I put my face next to her when the only thing she was able to was kissing my cheek, and did so. That 'we'll meet again' sounds much better. That 'siempre juntos, mamá' (together forever) I used to whisper holding her hand while asleep is something she heard and agreed with. And that 'cuidate' is not just a recommendation or a familiar way to wave goodbye, but that the anguish I felt for not having the chance to have her conscious and protect her in her last days despite all the efforts and hope were not important and had to turn into taking care of myself, to recover as I'm doing at slow but constant pace and go on with my life. That care is now something I need, not her, and I wish she will keep on granting me.
Sorry for the length, and thanks for reading and for allowing all of us who are grieving to have a glimpse of hope. |
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