Dreaming a visit

I looked at a photo of my mother yesterday, smiling, happy, sitting next to my father. It was one of those moments when I slipped into the picture, able to see what was around that day, smelling the spring flowers, hearing the conversation.

I am fortunate enough to have many dreams of my mother, and most of them are pleasant. Generally, we’re doing something very natural, having coffee at the dining room table, the seats filled by extended family, dead and alive. For the while that I am sitting there I have a deep sense of well being. It is only when I have to leave that I wake up to our separation, to the fact that we are alive differently, her on her spiritual plane, me here on earth. And I wonder if she is initiating the thoughts by sending me that vibe, or if I am manufacturing what I would like to experience.

People always question TV psychics about messages from the next world. I tend to get the same one over and over, that my mother is still around, still listening, still loving the family. She looks healthy, happy, and appreciates the visit. The only difference between the dream and my life experience is she doesn’t ask me to stay longer. I feel sorrow as we embrace, though I know I can’t stay, I have to get home to my family, my life. I am the one who has difficulty letting go.