Heaven's Coffee Shop

I had a dream last night that my mom was in.  I went into a cafe for a pastry and coffee and there she was, looking like she did in her last days except that she was walking and not in a wheelchair.  She was a trainee at the shop, and she didn't recognise me due to her dementia.  I placed my order, and she got several things wrong, so I walked her through it again.  She was doing her best.  The other staff there were very kind to her and helped her too. 

I very much wanted to take her out of the shop and take her home.  She had been essentially helpless for a decade, relying on my dad and me for her every need.  What was she doing working in this place?  But I looked harder: she seemed happy.  She was slow, but doing the job with a smile on her face, really connecting with me as a customer.

She walked through the swinging doors into the kitchen, out of my sight.  She was functioning and she was productive.  I should stay out of it.  She wasn't really my mother anymore, she was her own person on her own path. I felt both profoundly sad but also glad for her.  She wasn't on death's door anymore.  I knew I had to let go.  Let her go.

I woke up feeling as if I were on the brink of death myself.  A bit of a panic in my chest.  I felt pulled to join her in the afterlife.  I miss her so much.  I love her still, I always will.  I do, in most cases, enjoy when she comes to me in dreams.  Often as a young healthy woman, sometimes in middle age and still vigorous.  Rarely as her old self, suffering from Parkinson's disease and dementia.  It's been three years now and I still get the notion to call her on the phone and tell her about my grandchildren, her great grandchildren, or the new couch I bought for the living room.

Instead, I speak to her from this side of the veil, and invite her in to see me whenever she wishes.