My Mother dropped by last night.

I am not much of a dreamer although at different moments in my life I have had some fairly profound dreams. I once took a spirituality class that addressed dreams. One point that I learned was that if I wanted to remember my dreams, I had to work at it. That usually involves putting paper and pencil close enough to reach immediately upon waking so that any dreams can be recorded right away before they are forgotten. I have used this practice so I know that it does work, but it takes effort and months, even years can go by when I am too tired to work at it.

That doesn't mean I never dream. I do have dreams and sometimes they wake me up and once in a while they are so profound I remember them without writing. But in my family it was always my mother or my sister who had the really impressive dreams, like dreams of conversations or visits with people who had died. Not me. In fact I have felt more than a few moments of envy for their ability to be in touch with the dreamworld.

But last night my mother dropped by.

I have been at peace with my mother's death. I don't have regrets that keep me awake at night and I long ago grieved the loss of her ability to communicate and to recognize people or remember visits, so her death was a peaceful end to a long period where she seemed to be living a half life. Nonetheless, she is gone and I have pondered her absence from this world.


I was in a room with another person and decided to go upstairs. Upstairs there were three rooms that opened from one into another through doors that were lined up. I sat on a couch in the first room facing the wall across the room and the door that led to the next room. There was a little sliding door - like an air vent but maybe six or seven inches high - that was above the main door. As I sat the little door slid open a few inches and a paper puppet popped through. It made me laugh and I wondered who had gone upstairs before me, who was working the little puppet. At that moment my mother walked around the corner and into the room. She looked as I remembered her from some years past, healthier with a normal weight as she used to have. I was delighted to see her even though I was completely aware that she had died. I also knew that she had been the one to open the little door and pop the puppet through, just as I immediately knew that she had done so to make me laugh so I wouldn't be afraid or startled by her presence. 


That's all really. I don't remember if she said anything. The important thing was that she was healthy, walking and was taking time to drop in on me. In the dream, after my mother was gone,  I told another person that I had seen her and I emphasized that she had really been there - that it wasn't a dream. There was another message but it is personal. I need to keep it as my own. But the visit was sweet and very comforting.


Keep your heart open when your loved ones pass from this world to the next. The doorways are less substantial than expected.  

I am pleased that my mother dropped by last night.