My mother died at approximately 330AM on a Friday morning three years ago. Ever since, that time of night has been a special time for me mainly because if I wake up I know she is waking me up. Sometimes I know why and sometimes I don’t. I will usually wake up only to go back to sleep and dream of her. In some way, I think she wakes me up so I can go back to sleep and she can come to me in my dreams and talk to me. By the way.. today is Friday.
Lately I wake up at least once a night – hoping it is still the wee hours of the morning with plenty of time left to go back to sleep, only to find it is about 10 minutes before my alarm is due to ring. I am a little disappointed because I always hope it is about 330 AM.
Last night I woke up, knowing I was going to look at the clock and it say 545AM. To my surprise, it was 305AM. I thought of my mother, smiled and went back to sleep. The next time I woke up it was 10 minutes before my alarm but I had had a visit from mom and it was so vivid I had to write it down before it faded.
She was decorating for a holiday. And I am not sure why because she hated decorating for Christmas. It had to be Christmas because she was putting out snow and decorations. But it was fake snow like cotton clouds with glitter to make it look like snow. Anyway, I was standing there with her looking at her decorations and she said something about the snow and she said “I wish they could see this” and I said “it is pretty”. I knew who she was talking about, her two grandchildren. She put her arm around my shoulders and kissed my temple and while looking at the decorations she was upset and said “My babies won’t remember me”. And as clear as I am sitting here typing this I said to her “Don’t worry, I won’t let them forget.” And we just stood there for a moment with her arm around my shoulder, looking at her decorations and the next thing I knew I was waking up.
I wish she could see my daughter. Smart, tall and beautiful, getting ready to drive and take on the world. I look at her sometimes and she takes my breath. She would eat up my son, and he would adore her. She would want him to tell her all about space, listen to every word, and marvel at how smart he is. They would be beyond perfect in her eyes and she would brag on them every breath. As I am sure she is doing in heaven.