Dreams

I wrote myself an email this morning to transcribe the dream I had right after I woke up:

I went to bed thinking about misadventures, plotting places and pictures. So I guess it stands to reason that I would dream of my mom. I had also been thinking about derby regionals, and earlier in the day had been making plans to meet a friend from derby, so I guess it stands to reason that in my dream, I'd be trying to get to a meeting with my derby wife. At first, I was early. So, I wandered around this giant, sprawling mall. Then, in the dream, I had to pee, so I wandered through this place that had a glass floor. I was terrified to step on the glass floor (and see the stories and stories below), so I walked the edges, where there was marble and I could pretend I didn't feel like I was going to fall. Once to the place where I could pee, my mom was there (but she was younger - high school maybe?) and she was doing some kind of performance art. And, suddenly, I became the artist that she was visiting and I decided to sculpt her, but as a kitten. (In my dream, my mom as an adult was narrating and she said this really happened and that she was letting me recreate the sculpture. She also said I'd never get over the fear of open glass floors and that that was okay.) I made the sculpture and although it was still very soft, I handed it to her to look at. She reshaped it a bit, so the kitten's head was all tucked into its body, the ways cats do. And then I realized I was 15 minutes late to meet Rehab. But, on my way to meet her, I realized that some bad guy had vandalized the place where I'd left my laptop (I guess the one I have from work?) and other things. All that was left was the fabric jewelry box my mom made me when I was a kid, on display, like a message. I was about to say, "What does it mean?" (yes, like the double rainbow guy) when I think I woke up.

I miss my mom every day. Lately, I've been remembering how bad things were last September, and it makes me remember things I don't want to remember, and miss her even more. Dreams like that seem nice enough, but they rattle me. I can't explain it any better than that -- just that I feel very jarred when my mom shows up in my sleep. Especially because it happens so infrequently.

I spent most of today with two very good friends, and there's something bizarre about the way the three of us connect, we just always have an incredible time together. Maybe it's partly to do with the fact that each time we get together, it involves a misadventure with my mom's ashes. Maybe it's partly to do with the fact that each misadventure is about not accepting the status quo and not doing what other people think/say/expect you to do, but instead following your heart and doing what makes sense to you. Just you.

It's been such an effort to remember all the lessons I've learned from my mom's death, but I try to practice them every day: tell people I think of them; tell people what I think of them; choose happiness and wonder; chase down joy; never settle; do what makes sense to you; don't forget to be awesome; love love love -- keep working on love.