Dream a little dream of me

On my mornings off I still like to wake up reasonably early so I can feel like the day was still completely mine. Mornings off, like the mornings I work, I set a few alarms to allow myself to lazily put off getting up for a few more minutes. beep beep beep. I slide my finger across the surface of my cell phone and roll over in my bed.

Before the first alarm I was dreaming of people moving into my house. I often have that dream here, that the people back home miss me so much they're willing to move to south america to come be with me. Or that they just happen to be here too, and I welcome them into my adopted home so that we can be here together, a team of familiar faces up against the challenges of newness together.

Before the second alarm I dreamt I was organizing the closet of a very wealthy man. First we went to the store and bought a new armoire with lights running across the top and organizing shelves. Then we came home and he advised me while I stacked his slacks according to their shade of beige.

Before the third alarm the most wonderful thing happened. In the dream I was at a cocktail party where everyone was older than me, and then my mother walked in. We both cried we were so happy to see each other again. She remarked on how old I was, that I was an adult now. We hugged and I noticed how thin her shoulders were, it stuck in my mind that we were exactly the same height; with our arms wrapped around each other we pressed perfectly together cheek to cheek. The two of us sat on a sofa near a large picture window and drank a fancy foreign wine with a acquaintance of hers. She said she didn't have much time but promised to be back. I protested that I had so much to ask her, I needed so much from her. 

The third alarm rang and I got out of bed, my chest bursting with feeling. It always feels like some sort of miracle when she returns to me this way. I cry to think of all the time she missed, more than fourteen years now. But at this point in my life, even a sweet little dream of her is such a gift. I love you, Mom. I miss you.