The First Dream

Early this morning, I dreamed of my mother for the first time since she died in February.  To be honest, I expected her to visit others first according to the level of their grief or the intimacy of the relationship.  That seems appropriate, so this experience leaves me feeling both honored and a bit puzzled. 

In the dream, my dad and I are sitting on the top row of wooden bleachers located in a grassy, forest-like area.  No one else is there. We are trying to make a decision about something, the details of which are gone now. 

As we sit, silent in our thoughts, I see a woman at the bottom of the bleachers, walking from left to right.  She is dressed in light clothing and she moves very smoothly. Her appearance is completely out of context and, for a second, I don't know who it is.  Then it hits me, "oh, my god, it's Mom!"  

She stops and turns toward Dad and me, without looking directly at us, and says, "I just wanted to say hi to you guys and I'll be back in the morning."  It is her, 15 years ago, before her body began to falter.  Even though she wore glasses from the time she was a little girl, she is not wearing them in my dream.  She is beautiful as ever and somehow transformed.  But every bit my mother.

I wake up suddenly with a roller coaster whoosh buzzing throughout my entire body.  

It's all I can do to wait until 7:00 before I call Dad just to tell him that I saw her, hoping to provide some comfort in the desolation of his grief.  While this dream is a precious gift, I wonder why she visited me instead of him when he would give anything for a sign that she still exists?  And what does "I'll be back in the morning" mean?  I don't know, but I will wait - and hope - for an early morning call from my dad.