The evening of May 22, 2011 found me lying lathargically in the bathtub, mind wandering, nothing thinking about much of anything. This is a mental state not far from meditation. Perhaps it allowed me to connect with my mother even though I was awake, because a thought entered my head out of nowhere and snapped me to full attention: How long ago was it, exactly, that John told you Sherise was pregnant?
My neice, Sherise, married a year or so before. I knew they were anxious to start a family. John told me she was expecting … I searched through my memory banks … sometime in the fall? He was very hush hush about it. Only a few weeks along, so nothing is certain yet. I counted the months on my fingers. Holy crap, she should be due any day now! I should email John and find out when the baby is due, I thought.
But I never got the chance because the next morning an email was already there announcing the birth of my new great-neice, Elin. Somehow I just knew my mother was involved. I wasn’t the only one who came to that conclusion. My sister-in-law posted the same thought on her Facebook page that morning.
A few weeks later, on June 4, 2011, I had another dream visit from my mother.
I was back at my parents’ house, helping to clean up after a big family get-together like we used to have for holidays. Most of the guests were already gone. The only people left were immediate family. I was putting chairs away. I wasn’t quite sure where some of them went. Deciding I’d better ask somebody first, I sat down on one of the homeless chairs in my parents’ living room. Moments later my mother came out of the kitchen in her blue nightgowns and sat down in the rocking chair, across the room from where I was sitting. This was a common occurence back in the day. After cooking some huge meal and ending up with piles and piles of dishes, she would go upstairs and change into her nightgown. Then she would come back to the kitchen, kick my dad out (who was always trying to help, but ended up getting in her way) and clean up.
“Boy am I tired” she said. “I need an asprin.”
I started to snigger to myself. It was the way she always said “asprin” – it always sounded like “ass burn”. I realized I was dreaming and stifled the laught. Another visit from my mother from beyond! It seemed taboo to tease a dead woman about needing an “ass burn”.
She mentioned that the lady next door (Regina) had died. This evolved into conversation about death. During this entire exchange the rest of the family bustled about, as if they were completely unaware that we were there.
She looked at me pointedly. “You need to heal your relationship with death.”
“Well I’m talking to a dead person, so that must be a start,” was my wise-ass reply. Truth is, I was finding it hard to forget about the “ass burn”.
My statement about her – present condition – triggered all the other dream figures of living family members to become lucid. They mobbed her with sighs and excited chatter.
But the one who stood out was Sherise, who knelt down beside her, hugged her, and said, “Grandma, you’re the ONLY dead person I ever want to talk to!”
I woke up. Now I was really sure that somehow my mother was very involved with this new baby. Has she reincarnated? Or was she Elin’s spirit guide? I am still not sure. However my dream log reveals that after Elin’s birth, contact with my mother declined significantly. Whatever the connection is, it is keeping her busy.