The Embrace

My mom passed away last month.  I'm more bewildered than anything.  Where did she go?

I have introduced my beliefs in earlier blogs, but I know that if there really is an afterlife, Momb will find a way to launch a message.  Her beliefs were really different from mine and she will find the way if it is there. 

You can imagine the ramifications if she is actually able to pull it off.

You never saw anyone more hopeful that their beliefs were wrong!  My mother's passing has put me in touch with the longing that leads so many people to embrace and defend traditional teachings. 

Last night rocked my world.  I went to bed at midnight after a day that started at 6 a.m.  It was difficult to sleep, and I felt myself going through some unpleasant sensory experiences, such as smelling smoke that wasn't there, and losing control of my body while my sensibilities drained from my mind.  This was probably no more than falling asleep in slow motion and experiencing the shutdown that usually takes place too quickly to examine.  But I was conscious enough to wonder if I was dying. 

What happened next was not really linear, but I found myself in the great hall of an old house.  It was pitch dark.  No windows, no moonlight.  Even so, I could see the glint of a great white fireplace.  Mind, I could not see it, but in a dream, you often know the lay of an environment you cannot actually see.  I saw fingers in front of me, and felt them with an explosive sense of recognition.  I had Momb by the hands!  Both of them!  I pulled her to me and squeezed her so hard.  I have never been a hugger, and Momb had always been a more emotional being, so I often felt in life that I was having gestures of affection extorted from me.  Not last night, though - I had a sense of joy that was better than any earthly pleasure I have ever had.  I would have checked out without so much as a goodbye, and run off with my mom . . . to do what?  I have no idea!  And the dark mansion itself was not a place of beauty or joy, or even importance.  And I never saw more than her fingers.

I woke up unable to stop crying.  My husband, whose sleep I had disturbed, put his arms around me.  I wasn't sad - I mean, could I possibly be any sadder than I already am?  Maybe they were tears of joy, but my emotion was so extreme, my body cannot differentiate.  Did I want the experience to continue?  Of course I did, but the embrace had ended before I awakened.  My awakening did not shorten it.  I woke up crying, but realized I had received the entire message.  The word I spoke into my pillow was "awesome" and by 2:00, I was recording it in my diary because I never want to forget the dream that left me feeling awed and grateful.  Believer or not, it honestly feels like she came back to me for an instant.  I can't help wondering if a mixture of emotions attached to my mother and menopause are messing with my tear ducts.  I know that was a spoiler.  I'm not sure I care right now.

So was it only a dream? 

Since the dawn of Man, dreams were not television in one's head, but an arena of alternative realities.  But if these scenarios were any sort of reality, why should such phenomena occur only at night?  I am reminded of a conversation where someone explained to me that even the stars shone during the day.  The aurora borealis, all celestial wonders, were present during the day.  We simply could not see them because of the sun's presence.

Of course, it is possible that night, once we lie vulnerably and relinquish control, is the only time it is quiet enough for the mind to go seeking or to receive a message with one's whole being.