herlucidlife

You came to visit me. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you. Snug in my bed, having turned in around nine in the morning after staying up all night. Skipping church, my brain was not in the mood to be around people. Though some part of me felt that maybe the greatest act of honor would have been to be in the house of God. Twisting and turning in my bed, thinking of laundry and cleaning the house. Things I actually need to do in my present life. The dream began…

In the house I grew up in, the sun light shone through open blinds. The bedroom is full of warmth from the sun. Twisting and turning thinking about how I was going to help you clean the house. I kept tossing and turning, my favorite dark turquoise blue sheets fit snug to the bed. I woke up in the late afternoon, making my way to the laundry room filling the washer machine with a new load of clothes. I cut the corner, you were up. 

Looking down at the sofa, fixing some throw blankets to make them lay exactly how you’d like. Something played on the television. You didn’t see me come into the living room. Dressed in a flowery silk robe, so your style. You finally looked up, your face was a little dark but it was you, my mother smiling back at me. Looking as you always did with full cheeks. A head full of curly hair, playfully tied into a high messy ponytail. I asked, “have you been up all night?” Giving a grin while turning your head to left, signaling that you’d been up all night. 

The house was spotless. Small kitchen appliances spread across the countertops, the sun bouncing off them, they’ve never sparkled so bright. Standing against the wall, allowing me to admire the work you’d done. You never spoke a word. The dream ended. Where I’m not sure. Something about your face not being fully visible is suddenly sinking into my heart. In the past I’ve always been able to see your face so clearly in my dreams. 

What if I no longer need our interactions as much? What if the healing has finally come to a place where I’m genuinely okay with not needing you as often. I needed to see you before, I needed our hugs and laughs and our talks. Perhaps I no longer need that anymore. Perhaps I couldn’t see your face because it’s signifying that I’m moving further away from grief. Just maybe I’m moving forward faster than I’d thought and you’re moving further into a peaceful rest.