Tuesday, May 29, 2007

Mom Being Mom

After church on Sunday I helped Beloved with more gardening. She had been working since 9; I joined her at 1 and we worked until 4. Then I went home to rest and ended up falling asleep on my bed, awash in the bright afternoon sunlight.

I dreamed of my mother. I dream of her so seldom, it seems. Though I think might remember more dreams if I slept longer... the less sleep I get, the fewer dreams I remember. Is it like that for everyone?

Anyway, I dreamed of mom. She came into the room where I was napping, and in the dream I ended up on the floor next to the bed, on my knees, as if I'd tried to get up but failed. Or, alternatively, as if I were praying, as a child, next to my bed. She came around to that side of the bed and asked if I was still tired, did I need more sleep. I nodded, Yes (I remember-- I think-- actually nodding my head). Then she asked me if I'd like her to take off a necklace I was wearing when I fell asleep, and I bent my head so that she could undo the clasp beneath my hair.

Mom was a firm believer in naps. She told me that once she had read that FDR napped, and insisted on wearing pajamas to nap, because, she quoted him, "You can't fool the old bod." I have internalized this, not to the point of donning pajamas, but certainly to the point of trying to get as physically comfortable and free as possible if the opportunity to nap does present itself.

Sunday afternoon seems to me the perfect time to nap. If such a window exists.

The dream... it was so simple and real-- no dragons, castles, bad guys giving chase. Just mom being mom-- wondering if I was tired, and what she could do to make me more comfortable. She was also in my house, upstairs, a place where she could not be for about the last two or three years of her life, since she was not able to walk very well, before she was not able to walk at all.

It was a dream of comfort and care. Just mom being mom.


LittleMary said...

beautiful dream, just beautiful...

Jennifer said...

I noticed your name on my friend Amy's blog, and I had to pop in--I just love this more descriptive version of your dream. My mother died 14 years ago when I was 20, and I cherish those dreams, infrequent though they may be. I've nurtured for a long time my firm belief that these are not imaginary events in my mind alone, but a very real encounter that continues my mother's nurturance and care of me. Just beautiful....