Sunday, June 15, 2008
I had a dream
Art by my brother, Richard Ward.
I had a dream the other night. We decided to take my mom off of all of her meds, not just her antidepressants, and she got out of bed and was walking, walking like I haven't seen her walk in about 25 years. Fast and with a spring in her step. She looked much younger, too...perhaps about 40 years old. She had her hair in two long red braids, and was wearing a tie-dye dress and looked so happy. Carefree and healthy and in her prime.
Then I woke up, and for the briefest second, I was truly happy for her. Then it hit me, that no matter if she were to recover, it would never be that sweet full recovery, that fountain of youth. And worse, I knew, in the pit of my stomach, that she would never recover. That this battle was too much for her, and the motivation too difficult to muster. And I almost cried from despair.
And now, it looks as though I was right. My much loved mother suffered a heart attack at around 2am this morning, and she passed away.
How I wish that cold, cruel truth were the dream, and my dream, reality.
(p.s., Ted posted a sweet story on his blog today, a glimpse of what we have lost.)