It was almost like an assisted euthanasia. It was time for her to go. We were in water, a large pool like area in a creek. But the water was low and I was allowing it to fill up like in a bath tub or swimming pool until it would take her under and I would let her die. And I was going to stay with her and hold her hand as she went under the water and drowned.
But all of a sudden the water was deep and had taken her when my back was turned and I wasn't holding her and she was gone. And the water was rough and murky and I couldn't see under the surface and I was walking around, reaching down in the water with my hands searching for her but not whole heartedly because I was afraid to find her, floating underwater dead. But then I stepped down, into another pool of water on a lower level and the water was clear there. It was like another room in a house and I saw her lying there under the water, convulsing and bleeding in this spot on the gravel floor, almost as if she was lying in front of the hearth in a living room--a sacrifice on the altar of her watery grave.
The sight of her scared me at first, seeing her moving, struggling, still alive with her blood swirling in the water above her head like a spiraling halo. I turned and slipped back behind a corner so I wouldn't have to witness her death, but then immediately returned and went to her. I couldn't let her die alone. I leaned down and took her hand and she flinched like I had hurt her, being too rough as I tried to crawl between her and the hearth and lie next to her. It's not so easy, trying to lie on the rocky bottom of a creek, underwater, holding on to someone as they die.
But I managed to situate myself, and I held her hands and she looked at me. Our eyes met and I told her "I found you mama, I am here." It's not easy to speak underwater. I took her head in my hands and kissed her as she died. My mama died.
I woke up from the dream and gasped as I realized how intense it was. I told my husband that I dreamed my mother died and that I was with her. I wondered if she had really died and had come to me, to say goodbye and I sat up to look at the time. The clock said 2:07. I wondered if the call from her assisted care home would come soon, when one of her caregivers went in to check on her and found her there in bed, dead. I hoped not. I knew the call could still could be coming. It will come eventually. Or maybe I will be with her when she dies. I hope I will be with her. I pray that I will be with her. I need to be there for my mama when she dies.
I kept going over the dream, reliving it in my mind, over and over, trying to remember every nuance. I didn't want to forget a thing. I decided to write it out so I wouldn't forget it. I opened my computer and saw my youngest son on face book. Two-thirty in the morning and there he was. I told him about my dream and he was glad it was only a dream. Only a dream. For now.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
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