I woke up to the sound of “Mommy, mommy, mommy” this morning. As if my little daughter was calling me out of the dream I was having. It was an amazing dream, or a heart-wrenching dream; whichever way you take it. But it was one of those dreams that will stay with me forever I think, cause it was about my mom.
In the dream, I was visiting my parents’ old house- the one that I grew up in. My mom and dad were standing at the sink and my mom was doing dishes vigorously. I froze in the doorway and just stared at her because my last memory of her had been her in bed, sick and weak.
My dad said, “The doctor’s say she’s been healed. The cancer is gone.” And mom just looked over her shoulder at me with a smile, all without stopping with the dishes. She went on to tell me all of the thing she was going to do that day, bubbles and water flying everywhere.
I stepped closer and said, “Mom, can I just hug you?”
She put down the dishes and wrapped her arms around me. And it felt real. I wasn’t hugging the shell of who she once was. She wasn’t skinny and hard. Her soft arms held me tightly.
And in the embrace of my mother, a little voice started calling, “Mommy, mommy, mommy.”