Peggy came running into the room, excited. “Come quickly,” she said, and ran out of the room again. I walked into our living room and there was Mom! I walked over to her and said, “I must be dreaming - pinch me.” She pinched my right arm and it started hurting. It’s not supposed to hurt if you’re dreaming, right? Right? RIGHT? Relieved that it wasn’t a dream, and that Mom was somehow magically alive, I went into her arms and felt her soft warmth as I lay my head against her chest. I sighed. I could FEEL her with me, could FEEL her energy, her Spirit - it WAS her. I felt such relief and gratitude when I felt her hug. I miss her so much it’s not even funny (not that missing your dead mother ever WOULD be funny), even though it’s been over two years that she’s been gone. I think the point is that on some level she WAS there with me. Of COURSE she was. I believe it. And I was being shown that even though the pinch hurt and it wasn’t supposed to, that showed me that I maybe need to expand my perspective on what’s a dream and what’s real and maybe in the end dreams ARE real. There’s no more division between the two. That also I believe. Always have always will.
I’m a dreamer, and not in the John Lennon “Imagine” way. I mean that ever since I was little there has never really been any veils when I’m in my Dreamtime. I’m all just THERE with the All, so I’m used to it. I’ve been able to lucid dream since a series of awful nightmares from a young age precipitated me being able to KNOW I was dreaming and then be able to disappear, fly, change the dream scenario, and on. Pretty Carlos Castanada of me, I admit. But I hadn’t dreamt of Mom in quite a while. At least not this clearly. Or that I could so strongly FEEL her presence when I hugged her. But I’m glad I hugged her. That feeling of relief was so strong I can’t even begin to describe it. I guess that goes back to my question of wondering how I’m supposed to live without my beloved mom for the whole second half of my life. I’m beginning to think I don’t have to - she’s right here with me. And that is not a dream, so don’t pinch me. My right arm still hurts a little from Mom’s pinch last night.