Two Nights Ago, My Dead Mother Came to Me in a Dream is a very long Slog post. It goes on and on and nothing much happens but this going on and on. And you can easily imagine the amazement that filled my face when I learned that it could actually have gone on and on for much longer than I saw it going on and on. Yes, a dead mother is at the heart of Two Nights Ago, My Dead Mother Came to Me in a Dream, but that’s not enough. Death happens. Life comes and goes. Dealing with grief is old hat.

It is shocking how much of an effort the interpreter makes to organize nonsense into sense. In an earthquake, the viaduct has pancaked around you, but for a while, your inner voice can't accept it, insists that nothing has changed. Also, religion.

Charles, this was great.

I'm glad you get to see your mother sometimes, even though it is confusing. Her visit comes just days after the anniversary of her death, so I can only assume she's been on your mind. Your waking thoughts have summoned her into existence in the dream world. By waking hours we are limited to the constraints of reality; the hours in which we sleep know no boundaries, and it is there we can be flying creatures, creatures who can breath under water, or even necromancers.

You still feel her pain and desperation. You internalized her suffering and now you need to resolve it because your subconscious won't let you put it off. Whether it's guilt or grieving, only you can define the meaning and bring about a resolution.

Great story. I lost my daddy eleven years ago, and my own mother a little over a year ago.

Humans are pattern-seeking animals. We see patterns all the time that aren't there -- animals in the clouds, trends in the news, predictive power in Runs Batted In. It doesn't mean they're really there. Dreams are just the clearing of the decks for the next day's consciousness, and sometimes bits of old things spark off one last time. But if they lead you to remember your mother, and show us all her photograph, it's good all around.

Stop drinking coffee before bed.

Dreaming of the dead is stunning and tantalizing. I dreamt 2 weeks ago of a family friend who died over 20 years ago. And I could feel his presence the next waking day.

That was very nice, Charles. I think you're a very good writer.

Touching.

This is wonderful, Charles. That image of your dream mother as the cashier controlled by a hidden gunman with one finger to his lips... That's poetry powerful enough to be fable. So saudade.

No matter what the reason, enjoy those nighttime visits. Whether it's your mother or your subconscious memory, get from them what you can.
Anyone who pooh-poohs this essay has never had a loved one die - yet.
After my dad died, I had 90-year-old people tell me they still missed their parents, who had died a half-century or more ago. Great, I thought... But missing them is also a fact of life

Wow. Great stuff, Charles, thank you!

I used to dream about my ex husband a lot, then wake up and realize we were divorced, and the cat was dead too, and I had nobody here in this country to call family, and the shock would hit. It takes a while. Sometimes a lifetime.
Now I'm mostly just grateful that life has moved on, but something in my brain there for a long while, wasn't, and would keep reminding me it all used to be good once.

That waking feeling always feels like an insult for a moment, doesn't it. Nice writing.

This was a really nice post! Thank you for it.

Nice post, thank you.
My parents died in 1986 and 1994 respectively, and they still show up in my dreams, intact and like they used to be.

I've had similar lifetimes.

Agnosticism works for me. I'm comfortable with the ambiguity of the life/death boundary. I've learned that there's no need of immediately trying to superimpose a scientistic explanation on these experiences; nor is a religious one called for, either. Just, let them be; and have the feelings you have.

Trying to impose a prior ideology upon the ineffible is just another way of distancing yourself from its immediacy - and hide from its emotional truths.